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I was riding my bike. I was having so much fun. We came down Astor Mountain I was booking it I had to be doing 25 30 miles an hour. At the end there was a crossroad. I didnt see any cars coming I had to turn right. I went to turn and my tires hit some loose gravel. My bike came out from underneath me I was flying. This was going to hurt I thought, hurt bad! My chest hit the curb my head was fine. I heard popping. As several of my ribs broke. It was painful. I passed out as I felt a rib puncture my lung. And another hit my heart. I was out. I passed out. I awoke a few days later, or so I thought my brain told my body move. It didn't. Crap! I'm paralyzed. From the neck down! I tried to feel the pins of a halo in my head. No halo. If my neck was broke. I would have a halo to keep me from moving my neck. What the hell kind of hospital is this? I was able to look left there were banks of monitors and things like that B/P normal, respirations, sat rates. Excellent. I was doing good why couldn't my body move. I knew everything that they were doing to me. I was a Doctor before my accident. A nurse came and asked me, "Are you awake Sunshine?" She was smiling at me. I nodded my head yes. "Thirsty!" I said in a raspy voice. It sounded more feminine. Than masculine. "How come I cant move very much?" I squeaked out. "You've been in a coma for the last 6 years. Your muscles have atrophied! It will take a couple of weeks to get you back into shape so you can walk and talk, move again. 6 years! It was 2041 when I was injured that would mean it was 2047. "What date?" I squeaked out sounding so much like a woman than the man I was! From what I could see. There were several other patients. "June 27." It was 6 years and 1 week since I was injured. Crap I thought my medical license expired 4 years ago! The nurse gave me a straw. I began to suck the water was cold it felt good on my throat. I ahemed, cleared my throat of flem. I should sound more like a male now. "Nurse I think I wet my bed." This wasnt me it was a total female voice. I was shocked. Did I damage my vocal cords in the accident. The nurse moved my blankets. "Why you sure did sweetie! Were you a bedwetrer before your accident?" "I was when I was younger. I said in my higher pitched voice!. She rolled me to one side and removed the sheets and things underneath me she put new sheets and a pee pad underneath me rolled me over. I saw at least 6 other beds in this ward. They all appeared asleep. Several had tubes going in they were there to assist them to breath. I was rolled the other way as the rest of the wet sheets were removed and the clean dry ones were put in place. She left me there as she put something underneath me it was blue and it crinkled. I was familiar with these it was a diaper. I had worn them every night until I was almost 18 years old. I blushed. It was still embarrassing wetting my bed like I did as a kid. "There is someone to see you. The nurse said. Your mother and father." Mom I thought, she must of got remarried my dad died years ago. Just dropped dead. I'm sure a massive CVA. Cerebral Vascular Accident, to most laymen a stroke. My dad was an insurance salesman he had a lot of stress, sat and watched tv and smoked. Why I ride a bike. Or used to ride a bike. Until 6 years ago I ended up here at a long termed care facility. A man I didnt recognize in an Armani Suit, and a woman that was just as impeccably dressed I didnt know her either it wasnt my mom! "Nicole how are you doing?" The guy asked. Nicole, who the hell was Nicole. " I'm Doctor Gerald Mullins, not Nicole! In the recesses of my brain I heard, I'm Nicole you blockhead! I saw an arm reach out to the lady. I herd my female voice "Mommy!"

What made you think...? “What made you think you wouldn’t have to wear a diaper?” “Well, I thought, seeing as it’s my eleventh birthday... and Aunty Sue has sent me some boxer shorts as a present that... erm...” “Well yes, that is nice of Aunty Sue but your father and I don’t think you’re ready yet for such a change.” “But I really am mum. I mean no one at school wears diapers except me and... erm... they... errr..” “So you think that because no one else at your school wears a diaper then you shouldn’t either?” “Well I just thought that...” “The problem is son that you still wet the bed.” “But that’s not fair mum... I haven’t wet for ages.” “That’s because you always wear a diaper and plastic pants. I really don’t know why you’re complaining.” “But I haven’t wet my diapers in... ages...” “Now then son... we both know that’s not true don’t we?” “Er, umm, mmm, erm...” “We both know you’ve wet on several occasions and tried to sneakily change your wet diaper.” “Oooohhh... how did you know?” “I didn’t until just this second.” “Oh mum, please don’t make me wear...” “I’ll give you until the count of three to get those boxers off and on the changing table.” “But mum...” “One.” “Please mum let me...” “Two.” “Okay, okay...” “No need to take that attitude... I want no petulance... just get up and I’ll get you ready for the day.” Sigh “You know you’re always better when you’re well protected so why this desire to wear boxers I do not know.” “Can I wear them over the diaper please?” “You know the rules, when in the house we need to see your diapers all the time. When out and about you wear your shorts but, and don’t think this is an open invitation, you can wear your present when you go out.” “Really mum... do you think dad will be okay with that?” “I’m sure he’ll have reservations but I’ll have a word... I’m sure we can work something out.” “Did dad never want to wear boxers or briefs?” “Sweetheart, you dad has never found anything more comfortable or more useful than a diaper and plastic pants. He swears by them and that’s why we think they’re best for you. Despite what your friend’s opinion might be your father and I know best.” “Thanks mum.” ####

MY DADDY THE DIPLOMAT By LtlGary “But Dad, I don’t need any help. I can change myself.” I whined. “I know you can, Dustin. But where we’re going you won’t be allowed to. Besides, we’re both guys. And we got the same equipment. Or did you forget I used to change your diapers when you were a baby?” I grumbled under my breath as Dad laid the changing pad on the hotel room bed. He neatly lined up the bottles of baby powder and rash cream. Next came the diapers. I had wanted just the plain white disposables, but Dad had insisted on getting a variety. “Dinos, Race Cars, or Super Heroes?” He asked me. “I don’t care. You can pick.” I murmured. He picked up a race car diaper and ushered me over to the bed. I raised my arms, like a boy much younger than me would. My shirt was soon pulled off my skinny ten year old body. My pants were next, falling to the ground. I simply stared at my Dad in just my boxer briefs. He saw I was getting emotional and snatched me off the ground in a big bear hug. “It’s ok. I know moving isn’t easy. But this new diplomatic post is a dream come true. It will be a fresh start. For the both of us.” “I know, but I can’t help feeling that we’re leaving Mom behind.” Losing my mother to cancer had been hard on the both of us. Dad had used up all his medical leave to be with her. He had gone into deep debt with all kinds of experimental treatments. Eventually he had to sell the house. My grades also began to suffer as I didn’t see the point of keeping up with my schoolwork. Mom had always helped me with my homework, and she always made it practical as well as fun. We were lucky enough to have church friends who helped take care of us after the funeral. Who bought me diapers when my bedwetting had reared its ugly head. To have a shoulder to cry on. Who even babysat me when Dad had to work long hours to pay off the debt. Three months later Dad was called into the office. He had been appointed to be a junior diplomat for the island nation of Panjeah. The next few days we packed all our things and hopped on the next flight over. The trip would take two days, and currently we were in a hotel. In a city called San Romero I think? I can’t remember. Dad gently lowered my boxer briefs to the floor where they joined my jeans. “You know why I’m doing this?” I wiped my eyes. “Panjeah keeps all children under 18 in diapers. Not to mention I have to wear a uniform to school. Don’t they treat all their kids like infants and toddlers?” “Not all of them. It depends on their behavior. You won’t have to deal with corporal punishment, which is a crying shame…” “Dad!” “Only joking. Most kids can wear regular clothes just like you. Only the naughty ones will be pushed around in strollers or be in harnesses.” “You’re not planning on doing anything like that with me?” “Relax. As long as you make good grades and get along with everyone, then you will have nothing to worry about. The only change will be wearing diapers 24/7 instead of just at nighttime.” Dad laid me down onto the bed. He made sure to cover my ‘package’ and my rear with lots of rash cream. “Not so much powder, I don’t want people to know.” He fixed me with a stare. “Sorry.” I nervously brushed my bright red hair out of my eyes as Dad finished taping up my sides. “There, all finished!” “Thanks, Dad.” “You’re welcome, Dustin.” He set me on my own bed next to his. “Dad?” “Yes?” “I love you.” “I know.” I curled up with my blankie and closed my eyes. I felt the sheets being tucked around my small frame and a kiss on my forehead. *** The next morning my diaper was drenched. I didn’t dream about Mom like I did most nights, strangely enough. It was the first restful night I’d had in months. Dad let me have the shower first, which I greatly appreciated. He probably wanted to dispose of my diaper and not leave it for the maids. I let the water pour down my frame, imagining all my worries going down the drain. Dad helped me towel off, paying extra attention to my mid-section. He offered me the same choice as last night and I chose super heroes. Moments later I was sporting a thick diaper with a Marvel super hero on the front. “I laid out new jeans for you, since your old ones won’t fit in your current state.” I took my time getting dressed while Dad was in the shower. The jeans were loose enough to hide my diaper but tight enough to stay on my waist. I silently prayed that no one would notice. We packed our things and were out of the hotel room by 10. We stopped for breakfast on the way to the airport, which was across the street. We took our time since we had our own private plane to take us to Panjeah. One of the perks of Dad working for the government. I tried not to eat too much because flying didn’t agree with me. It was never take off, or when we were at cruising altitude. It was whenever there was turbulence or landing. I hated carrying my used motion sickness bags but Dad didn’t want anyone else dealing with that. He had spent years in the service industry before landing his government job, so he didn’t want to inconvenience anyone else with my problems. After we ate we walked over and checked in with security. Dad had both our tickets and passports. There wasn’t much of a line, nor many families. Most of Dad’s coworkers were single or didn’t have kids. Dad always commented on how much fun they were missing out on. I stayed close as we boarded. Once I put my bag under my seat, I pulled out my large puzzle book to help me keep my mind away from my surroundings. I was busy with a complicated word search when the plane rushed down the runway. We took to the cloudless skies. “How long is the flight?” I looked up after I finished my search. “Little over four hours.” Dad was listening to a news podcast. I pulled out my blankie from my bag and curled up in my seat. Dad draped an arm over my shoulder as I closed my eyes. I imagined myself on the start of an epic journey, a quest to find ancient treasure. Bullies from my previous school morphed into monsters for me to slay. My old school became a treacherous swamp. As a knight of the realm, I travelled far and wide in long expansive battles. Sadly, my adventure faded from my mind as I fell into a dreamless sleep. Dad shook me awake a few hours later. “We’re here.” I looked out the window to find the plane rolling up to the small terminal. “Are you sure you didn’t drug my orange juice this morning?” “I swear. I’m as surprised as you are.” “First time I slept through a landing.” I gathered my things. I glanced out the window as I put my blankie back in my backpack. “Why isn’t there a gate?” “Panjeah only has a small airport. There’s only a handful of flights in or out.” We exited the plane and walked down the offered stairs. The smell of the ocean assaulted my nostrils. Followed by the crashing waves. Palm trees waved in the breeze. I held my hand in front of my eyes to shield them from the afternoon glare. A small entourage awaited us in the small terminal. Most of the adults were dressed just like Dad in business casual clothing. I noticed a few children following their parents. Each had a tell-tale waddle as well as a bulge around their waist. Even the teenagers weren’t exempt. Dad walked up to a large brown skinned muscular man. “Katoa! Good to finally meet you in person!” “Likewise, Derrick! And who do we have here?” I hid behind my Dad as my nerves got the better of me. “This is my son, Dustin. Don’t mind him, he’s shy around new people.” Katoa knelt in front of me so we saw eye to eye. “Pleased to meet you, little man.” “Hi.” I didn’t feel like talking. We walked out to the tiny parking lot where a small car was waiting for the three of us. Dad and I didn’t check any luggage since most of our things would arrive by ship in a couple of days. Dad and Katoa chatted about important details: getting his office up and running, vehicle options, and getting groceries. I perked up when they talked about my schooling. “So I’ll be attending the local school here?” I inquired. “Indeed, little man. I’m sure you’ll be quite the catch.” Katoa replied. He wasn’t kidding. Most Panjeese had tanned leathery skin, long black hair, and even blacker eyes. I doubt they’d seen a kid with fire engine hair and eyes the color of the ocean. “We’ll need to get you fitted for your school uniform tomorrow.” Dad informed me. “Has school started yet?” “Next week. Maybe you’ll have a chance to run into my kids.” Katoa grinned at me. We arrived at the small flat. It was a single story abode that rested over a bluff overlooking the ocean. Volcanic rock bricks covered the outside. Dad admired the spacious living room and kitchen. My room was twice the size of my old one. There was only one bathroom, but I had a little side room that was fully stocked with a large changing table, cream, powder, and plenty of diapers. But the best part? I had my own sink and shower! I have craved it since Dad and I had to share in our small condo. Maybe not having access to a toilet wasn’t so bad at all. A question popped into my head as I waved good bye to Katoa and the driver. “Dad? Who’s gonna be here when I get off from school?” “There’ll be plenty of activities to keep you busy once school is out. Didn’t you say you wanted to try out for the soccer team?” “Can I?” I begged. “Of course!” He laughed. “That and study hall should keep you busy until I’m finished with work.” “I’d love it if you could pick me up.” “No promises.” “Oh, and Dad?” “Yes?” “Could I get a change?” “Sure thing.” He ruffled my hair. *** That night we slept on just the mattresses. I don’t know how Dad could afford them. Not that he’d tell me if I asked him. I was just glad that Dad and I could use this to start over. We both needed a fresh start after the large trial we endured. I was so comfy that I had trouble getting up, though I think the time change had something to do with it. Dad had to pry me out of bed and carry me to my changing table. Soon I was in a fresh Dino diaper and being carried into the kitchen. “Do you want to sit in the high chair? You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” I didn’t see it the first tour of the condo. But there it was, up against the table in the center of the kitchen. I was still struggling to wake up so I simply shrugged. Dad plopped me in and set the tray in front. Soon I was watching him cook. Something he hasn’t done in quite a while. Dad loved cooking and was quite good at it. I loved to help him mix ingredients while he would man the stove. Or when he’d pick me up so I could reach the stove timer in order to set it. Mom would always be his go to assistant, and both of them would juggle meats, vegetables and make all kinds of dishes. When Mom got sick he started cooking less and less. Soon I was having microwaved meals more often than not. When she left us, I feared he would never cook because the memories we made would be too painful. I brushed my memories aside as Dad plopped a plate full of French toast in front of me. Along with an egg on the side. Neither of us said much, letting the amazing food do the talking. I made sure to lick the plate clean of maple syrup. “All done!” I announced. Dad unbuckled me from my high chair and I weaseled my way to the floor. “Hurry and get dressed, we have a busy day today.” I put on yesterday’s jeans and my favorite rock band t-shirt. Soon there was a honk in the driveway. I made my way out to the living room to find Dad and Katoa chatting. We piled into the car and drove into the nearby village. Dad told me that Katoa was simply dropping off the car, and it was ours to drive. “Do you work with my Dad?” I asked him. “Of course. I translate for him.” “Don’t most Panjeese speak English?” “Most of the kids do. As well as those in the big cities. Not so much out in the countryside.” We pulled up in front of an old stone building. Numerous paintings greeted us as we walked in. Mannequins were everywhere, dressed in fancy attire. Racks of dress clothing lined the walls. A tall skinny man in slacks and a vest came from the back room. “Welcome, welcome! I see you are here to get the little one fitted?” “Yup.” “Well then, come over here.” The tailor beckoned me to a small stool. “Now, please strip down to your diaper so I can get your measurements.” My face turned white. “Uh, Dad?” “Relax, Dustin. I’m sure he’s seen dozens of boys in just their diapers.” He reassured me. “Do you have soccer gear as well?” “I do indeed. Does your son intend to try out for the school team?” “You bet I do!” I answered enthusiastically before Dad could say anything. I had desperately wanted to try out for sports, but Mom’s sickness never gave me the chance. “Good! My son had mentioned rumors that there might not be a team this year because there wasn’t enough support. What position did you want to play?” “Goalie.” “Maybe if you’re a good boy for your father and me, I’ll let you try on the gear? Even though I’m supposed to wait for tryouts.” The tailor winked at Dad. In a flash I had stripped off my t-shirt and jeans and was standing on the stool with my hands behind my back. The tailor chuckled as he brought out the measuring tape. He wrapped it around my waist, then had me stretch it along my arms. Humming to himself, the tailor walked back to the racks and returned with a polo shirt onesie with the school emblem on the right breast. “Hold up your arms.” I obediently raised them, having been familiar with this routine. The tailor expertly pulled the onesie over my head and onto my body. He knelt as he did the snaps around my crotch. Next came the elastic short shorts. Oh Lord they were short! Most of my thighs were showing! I would have wagered that they were the same length of my old boxer briefs. Lastly were the knee high socks and shoes. “You look great.” Dad gave me a thumbs up. He glanced at the tailor. “We’ll take four sets.” The tailor nodded as he disrobed me. He piled the clothes onto the seat next to Dad. Mumbling to himself, he meandered to the back of his shop and returned with several soccer jerseys, shoes, shin guards, and gloves. “Where are the shorts?” I asked. The tailor exchanged a large grin with Katoa. “You don’t play with any on. It’s tradition.” Katoa tried not to laugh. “You’ll be issued a plastic diaper cover by your team which will have your number on your rear end.” I was speechless. I knew this country was different, but I wasn’t expecting this! “He’s only joking. Give me a moment.” The tailor went back and rummaged around until he found a pair of elastic short shorts in the school’s colors. They were the exact same length and material of my school shorts. The tailor helped me strap on my gear. Katoa pulled a soccer ball from the trunk of the car. We went outside for a little practice at the park across the street. “I’ll also take what he’s wearing as well.” Dad handed the tailor a wad of cash. “Keep the change.” “You are most gracious, sir. You and your son are welcome here anytime.” Dad took his time loading my school clothes into the back of the car, as he wanted to watch me and Katoa play. Several children had noticed our playing and soon the ball was being kicked around by a group of kids. To Be Continued

Are you a bedwetter? Were you a bedwetter ? Do you want to be a bedwetter?

So this is very different for me. Inspired by a writer who does a lot of stories in which an adult child asks their parent to discipline them again, with an ABDL twist to this one. _____________________________ Chapter 1 “Can whatever you wanted to talk about wait until tomorrow, Abby? I just want to go shower and crash.” What a long day it had been. I packed up my dorm room, loaded my car, drove six hours, and unloaded everything on my own by the time my mom got home. I just wanted to clean myself up and sleep for three days. So did my mom, apparently, who’d been working her standard 12-hour nursing shift. “It’ll only take a few minutes, Mom,” I assured her. My mom and I have always been best friends. I think part of that comes with being the oldest, and the fact that dad split when I was ten, and my little brother and sister were just 2 and under 1 at the time, just made our situation more intense. My first year of college had been hard on both of us especially since I wasn’t close enough to come home on weekends, even long weekends. Still, the freedom had been liberating for me. You might say I had been a willful child, and while I did take on more responsibility than most kids, especially when it came to looking after my brother and sister, my mother had always been pretty strict. Or more specifically, she became a lot more strict after dad left. I think it had to do with her suddenly being a single mom and feeling like between school, work and raising three kids, she needed to be strict to stay sane and make sure everything that needed doing got done. As the oldest, and by a wide margin, I caught the brunt of it. Understand, though, that Mom is not a screamer or a hitter. I had friends whose parents were screamers, and it always made me sick to my stomach. It reminded me of my asshole dad. Even now I get a little upset when I hear a parent raise their voice or, god forbid, swear at their kid. Mom never yelled at us or swore at us. I never got so much as a pat on the butt, either. When I didn’t live up to mom’s expectations or broke a rule, it was loss of privileges and grounding. I’m embarrassed to say timeouts in the living room corner didn’t stop until I turned 16. I spent a lot of time grounded, at least a weekend a month and sometimes much more, and I think that was part of the dynamic of a single parent household, too. With all the extra responsibility I had, I resisted some, especially in middle school and my first couple years of high school. All the changes were hard enough, and then to layer in all I was expected to do, well, sometimes I just didn’t do it. A lot of times I only did it after putting up a fight. That was the other part of being close to Mom: I never could stop myself from getting into the pettiest fights with her, things I’d bicker with my friends about. Mom didn’t ask anything unreasonable, in retrospect, but you know how young teens are. I didn’t want to babysit, I didn’t want to do extra chores, and I didn’t want to work extra hard in school to, in my mom’s words, not end up like her, dependent on a man for her livelihood and then needing to start college as a freshman at the age of 33. And yet for all that, we were very close, especially my last two years of high school when I was only grounded once every two months (or so). I guess I felt somewhat protective of her, especially as I got over the worst of my preteen and teen years and realized what she’d done for me, how hard she’d worked to get us back into the middle class and make our home stable and normal. I had friends with both parents whose home lives were more volatile than mine. “Let’s talk in the kitchen,” Mom said. I followed her, and she sat down at the table, and I did the same. She looked at me funny, then leaned forward and kissed he on the forehead. I blushed. It felt good to be home. “I’m excited to be home for the whole summer,” I said. “Me, too,” she replied, “I missed your help.” “Sorry.” “Don’t ever be sorry for that. I’m proud of you!” I blushed again. “So what did you want to talk about,” she asked. “Well, you know that talk we had over the phone last week, about all the old rules still applying while I’m home this summer?” Mom’s face has a way of becoming friendly and stern at the same time. It always reminded me of a school counselor’s, and I was pretty acquainted with several of those growing up. “Abigail,” she said, never a good sign when she uses my full first name, “That’s non-negotiable.” “I know.” “I know you’ve been away for most of the past year, and I don’t want to step on your summer, but it’s for everyone’s sake and so the kids know no one ever outgrows the rules.” She’d told me all that over the phone. Those weren’t major rules. A curfew, texting to let her know where I was if I was gonna be late, completing the chore chart, generally doing what I was told, not being disrespectful. It wasn’t like we had a list or anything. “I know. I agree completely.” “Then what did you want to talk about,” Mom asked me. “It’s about grounding. I’m only home for a few months. I’m responsible for the kids. I don’t want to miss out on things, and I don’t think it’s practical for me to be grounded while I’m home or to lose my privileges. I mean, if I have the kids during the day, then a car and phone aren’t really privileges anymore.” Mom shrugged apologetically at me. “Well, rules have to be backed up by punishment. Sorry, Abby, but that’s just how they work.” “It’s not like I get in a lot of trouble these days anyway,” I defended myself. “It’s not like I’m going to be breaking rules left and right.” “I certainly hope not, but honey, let’s face it, you do have a tendency to get into trouble.” “Maybe years ago,” I defended myself. “Remember Christmas break? You coming home drunk as a skunk at 4am.” “I didn’t ... I didn’t have a curfew.” Though I knew that wasn’t her point. “It’s not like you grounded me then.” “I know, and I should have. If for no other reason than so you’re brother and sister would understand that’s not acceptable. Ryan told his friends; he thought it was hilarious. I ended up on the phone apologizing to Mrs. Davis because he told Thomas all about it.” “Oh. I didn’t know that part.” “So, yes,” Mom said, “if you break the rules, I will ground you, and I’m sorry if that means you miss out on seeing your friends sometimes when you’re home, but that should be more of an incentive.” So I tried and failed to get out of punishment altogether. I figured that would happen. I very nearly chickened out of what I said next, but summer was short, and I figured being grounded even once would mean missing out on something. Call it fear of missing out, but I just really missed a lot of my friends and thought about my summer and getting to see them as very important. I cleared my throat, and looking at the table, I slowly said, “I talked to Alison about how things worked when she was home from college.” Alison is my older cousin, her mother, Lisa, my mom’s older sister. “She told me that Aunt Lisa, ahem, still, uh, spanks her.” “At 25,” my mother asked in mild surprise. My mom’s view of discipline diverged with Lisa’s on the subject of corporal punishment. “Apparently, yeah,” I said. “Huh,” was all my mom said back. “So, I know you’ve never spanked me, but, uh, could you, um, maybe, do that instead of grounding me and taking things away, maybe?” I sounded kinda pathetic. I knew it. “Yes.” “What,” I said in not-so-mild surprise. I thought she’d have turned me down. I thought she’d call me crazy, get offended or all freaked out. I thought I’d have to reason with her. I thought the absurdity of my request may have even led her to change her mind and decide no punishment at all was okay (I was kinda hoping that). “But you’ve never spanked any of us!” “Because it’s wrong to hit kids. You’re an adult and just consented to it.” Mom sat back in her chair. “Believe me, it’s not like I never wanted to. Your last two years of high school especially.” I guess maybe she and I remembered my last years of high school a bit differently. I thought I had been a pretty good kid, but maybe I had been grading myself on the wrong curve. I was kinda-sorta in trouble a lot more than my friends. “I thought you’d say no.” “I will say no, if you really didn’t mean it.” “No … it’s better than grounding.” “Okay. And don’t think just because you asked you get to dictate the how, when, where, or why of it.” “Just so long as you don’t go all Robo-Mom on me.” “Same rules apply, and like always, I decide when you’ve broken one.” “I understand. Can you not tell Ryan and Emma?” My two younger siblings. “We can not tell them, but I think they’ll figure it out.” “And what will you tell them then?” “You,” she emphasized, “and I will explain that everyone has to follow rules, and that you asked to be held accountable this way. It might even be good for them. Ryan is on the cusp of that obnoxious pre-teen phase. Maybe thinking of how long it’s taken you to accept responsibility for yourself will knock him out of it a little sooner.” “You’ve never even given a spanking before.” “And hopefully I won’t ever have to,” Mom said, “But when I do, I’ll figure it out. I’m sure Lisa would be happy to show me. Hardly a conversation about you has ever passed between us but she told me to spank your bottom.” Mom looked up to her left as if recalling a memory and chuckled a little. I hadn’t thought of Aunt Lisa being involved in this. “Really, Abby, I’m kinda proud of you for asking. That really shows me that you’ve grown up a bit more since you went away.” “Thanks,” I blushed, thinking about what a silly compliment it was. I’m not sure which of us was more deranged. But seriously, I was an adult. How much trouble could I possibly get in? I was confident I could just behave, but glad that if for some reason things went awry, at least I wouldn’t miss out on the summer. “I need to go to bed,” I told her. “Make sure you put your Goodnite on.” I rolled my eyes like corkscrews. “I know, Mom. Been doing it since I was four, remember?” “I know ... sorry.”

In a small town north Colorado there lives an energetic but focused 13 year old girl named Alyssa she has short brown, hair bright green eyes, and an average build for a 13 year old. While some of the girls at school are looking at boys and going to sleepovers and talking about shopping and the like Alyssa is different. Alyssa likes to try to be more grown up and considers her self as such, with out a need for a real bra yet she holds pride that she talked her mom into getting her a training bra early and now stuffs it fuller but she does it to have the people of the town to take her seriously. You see Alyssa is a detective and has worked alot of cases in town finding missing dolls, cats, dogs, and that one time she had to her mrs. Brown back to her house from 3 blocks away. But now shes looking for something bigger the only problem is she is constantly annoying her neighbor Dr. Z. And little does she know Dr. Z will be her newest foe. In this rp I need someone to play either Alyssa or Dr. Z. Alyssa's character is strong willed and wants to be grown up shes smart but gets a head of her self at times. Where Dr. Z is always one step a head and will be slowly taking Alyssa down first with bed wetting then daytime accidents then slowly regressing her age. Please reply with detail no single sentences please.

I have always had an attraction to diapers and everything associated with being little. I grew up with a loving and patient mom who cared for me and nurtured me in the best way possible. I have early memories of being diapered and having my diaper changed. From as early as three years old, I remember the changing table my mother used, I remember the sound of the diaper tapes being pulled off, and remember the corner shelf in the room where the diapers were neatly stacked along with the necessary changing supples. I remember mom's soft touch and the sound of her gentle voice as she comforted me and changed me. I also remember when mom began putting me in training pants. Since I was older, these memories are even more vivid. I remember the snaps up the sides and the plastic pants that were put on over them. I was a late learner and somewhat stubborn when it came to using the toilet, so I can also remember the warm wetness that spread across the front and the bottom and the coolness as I stayed in the wet pants for longer periods of time. This was still a daily occurance even as I turned five. I remember my special corner that I would visit to poop. It was a special feeling to sit quietly and push out a warm, sticky poop in to my training pants. I remember the sag in the bottom and the smell that permeated the areaafter I finished my business. As mom discovered it, she would ask, "Do you have dirty pants?" then put her hand on my bottom, then pull away the waistband of my pants to peek in and confirm before I could answer. I would then be led off for a change. I was always changed on a table of on the bed and flat on my back just as i was as a baby or toddler. She would pull the snaps away at the sides and open the front, lifting my legs for the first wipe of the change. Sometimes I tried to peek in and see the mess I had made. After I was wiped clean, mom took the training pants and swished them in the toilet, rinsed them in the sink and dropped them in the diaper pail standing in the corner of the bathroom. She would let a few pairs accumulate before soaking them in downy and just a bit of clorox. It was a daily routine. That diaper pail stood in the same corner until I was about 12 years old. I did start using the toilet on and off when I started school, but continued to wet the bed at night. I was intorduced to cotton undies for daytime but could shake the appeal for the feeling and emotion that went with going in my pants. !wanted the attention and wanted to be changed

Susan Freestone, was enjoying the weather it wasn't hot, it wasn't cold it was that magical area right in between. She was wearing a dress and was wearing a diaper underneath. She didn't really need them, she just loved to wear them. She had grown up with her best friend in the whole wide world, Tammy Rogers. Tammy unfortunately was a bedwetter. Always was, always will be as far as Susan knew. Tammy had turned Susan on to diapers at about 6 years old. She just wore them when she slept over at Tammy's house, or Tammy brought extra for her when she slept over at Susan's house. Her parents didn't mind she told them she was wearing them so Tammy didn't feel bad about having to wear them. Her parents thought she was a great kid, little did they know she loved wearing them as well. She usually just wore them around her apartment now days. She was being brave and naughty today and wearing them outside! Sally came to the intersection and the sign said walk she began to cross the crosswalk. Some big guy driving a huge Cadallac Deville saw the green light and started turning right, he hadn't bothered looking before turning. BAM! Sally felt something hard hit her knee and it kept coming she had a fraction of a second and her brain registered your getting ran over. She was hit and the impact shoved her she was sliding on the pavement and knew it hurt. She saw herself skidding along but it was like she was a witness, not a participant! She had heard that people sometimes have out of body experiences this was one for her. Once she stopped sliding the abrupt stop made the right side of her head bang on the ground. She was unconscious. She woke up an EMT was talking to her he was shining a flashlight in her eyes. "Have you heard of St. Mongos?" St. Mongo' s what's St. Mongols she thought. Do you want to go to St. Mongo's. She remembered she said yeah just before passing out again.

Brandy awoke it was June and the sun was shining in her room. It was the start of summer vacation. Even though she was 18 years old she had just graduated high school. It was a great day to be alive! "Brandy are you awake?" Her mom asked as she opened her bedroom door. "Yeah Mom! Why?" "I was just wondering. Did you wet your bed again last night?" Brandy didn't know how to answer that. Even though she had, her mom had been kind of funny about her responses, and were not talking funny ha ha! Some days she was "Okay, better luck tomorrow!" Some days she was "Come on Brandy your already 18 years old, most of your little friends quit wetting their beds years ago!" Others were just "Hmph!" Like she was totally disgusted with the fact that at 18 years old her daughter still was a Bedwetter like she had been at 5 years old, and 12 years old, and 15 years old, and at 17 years old. They had taken her to every doctor even the Urologists told her parents, "There is no real medical reason why your daughter still wets her bed, her bladder is on the smallish size one of these days she will just simply stop wetting her bed, most kids stop by the time they are 17 years old." Not Brandy! "I'm supposed to start college in the fall, unless there is a dorm for girls that still wet their beds, She wouldn't be living on campus! Guess I will be still living at home when I graduate college and I still be wetting my bed! Her mom asked her something again. "What mom?" "Did you wet or not, don't even think about lying to me, I already know the answer I can smell the urine on you, clear over here!" "Then why do you want to know if I wet my bed if you already know I did?" "That's besides the point, I guess I want to hear it straight from the horses mouth." "I won't lie, yeah I did mom." "Honey, your almost a full grown woman, there is always tomorrow! Breakfast will be ready in a few get a shower wash your sheets and be down for breakfast!" Today was a combination of you're an adult, and better luck tomorrow. She got up and her panties were still dripping urine down her legs, the rubber sheet did it's job and made a pool of pee she had slept in for the last few hours. Once again her brain asked her body. How in the hell can you pee that much and not wake me up so we can get to a toilet? That's simple brain because we're a Bedwetter and we don't wake up as we are peeing we just sleep in a puddle of our own piss! If we didn't we wouldn't be a Bedwetter. Brandy had her sheets and the last thing she threw in was her panties that at one point had been white as the snow! Now we're approaching a peach color, not exactly peach, more a ecru? They weren't white anymore by any stretch of the imagination. Certain parts were the areas she didn't pee on. She got her shower and dressed in some clothes for the day. After a breakfast of bacon and eggs. Mom said "I got a surprise for you!" "What kind of surprise?" "Umm, there is a new doctor in town, he specializes in bedwetting in older children, and young adults. I want to see if he can help you." "Mom you might as well save your Money! We must of spent thousands trying to get me dry! Nothing's worked the alarms woke you and dad and everybody else in the house except me, even the neighbors! The meds never worked, hypnosis! Nothing!" "It's my money and I will spend it how I see fit! End of story your going I already made an appointment!"

Thank you, CDfm, for pointing out the issues. I hope I fixed them all. If anyone sees any more errors, please don't hesitate to point them out. Update: I think I got them all this time. *** Do I have to? by nautybaby "Do I really have to?" "I really think you should." "But I don't want to." "We've been over this." "But I don't need them." "Last night and the laundry I've been doing lately says otherwise." "It won't happen again. I promise." "I've heard that before." "It's not fair!" "Fair or not, I won't have you ruining my friend's bed." "No!" I shouted. "You can't make me." "David!" she said sharply without raising her voice. "That's enough. I think we both know I can make you. Now, get your butt on that bed, and keep your voice down. That is unless you want Sharon to hear you getting a spanking on top of the tantrum you've been throwing." "You wouldn't," I blanched. "Try me." I looked into her steely eyes and slowly made my way to the bed. I lay down and gave her a pleading look. She simply grabbed the waist of my pajamas and began to tug. I gave in and lifted my bottom, allowing her to pull them down. She reached into my suitcase and pulled out the object of my dread. She had shown me the diapers before we left, but no matter how many times I saw them, I never got over just how big and thick they actually were. "Lift." I did and fought the urge to cry. She made short work of securing the diaper around my waist. She put the pajama bottoms back in my suitcase and locked it. "If you behave yourself, you can have those back in the morning." "You don't mean…" "We'll see. Now, get in bed." That was the end of a conversation that had been going on all day. Conversation, humph. Argument more like. It started when we were packing for the trip. I thought we were about ready when she brought out the package of diapers. "Are those what I think they are?" "Isn't that obvious?" "What do you have those for?" "Seriously?" "You don't expect me to wear those?" "I certainly do." "No way." "Yes way." "I won't." "You will. Now, hurry up. We're already late," she said, loading a number of the diapers into the case. "I don't need them. I've only had a couple of problems." "It started out as a couple of problems. It's gotten to be almost every night." "Yeah, almost. See, it's getting better. I'm not going to wear them." "You are going to wear them, and that's final. Now, get dressed." She said all this so matter-of-factly that it made my blood boil. I stomped over to the suitcase and started taking the diapers out. I felt a sharp sting in my right bottom cheek. I shot up straight and turned around. "You will put those back, unless you want some more." Her eyes were hard. "No," I said with more confidence than I felt. "David, put those back right now, or so help me…" I stood my ground, hoping my trembling didn't show. "Is that really the way you want to play it? Have it your way." I thought I had won the battle. That feeling lasted only a second before pain erupted from my ear. She spun me around by it and threw me face down on the bed. There was a knee in my back and slaps were raining down on my underpants. "Stop. Stop!" "Are you going to pack your diapers and stop fussing?" "No!" "Fine. If that's the way you want it." "No!" I screamed, as my underwear was yanked down. After that, my words got less and less comprehensible until I was simply blubbering. Still not dressed, my belt was in handy reach to her. She put it to good use—good from her perspective anyway. "Are you ready to do as you are told?" "Yes," I sobbed. "Good. Finish packing and get dressed. We're leaving in five minutes. Don't make me have to 'encourage' you. And you can start with the diapers. I'll be back for the case in just a minute. It had better be ready." I hastily repacked the diapers and the rest of my clothes. True to her word, she was soon back, and after checking to see that I had indeed packed the diapers, she locked the case and took it downstairs. That left me a few minutes alone to nurse my bruised pride and bottom while I finished dressing. I found her behind the wheel of the car, waiting to get on the road. I climbed in the other side and sulked. We couldn't have been on the road for more than five minutes before I started restating my position about why I shouldn't have to wear diapers. She didn't argue with me. She listened in silence. I felt encouraged that I was making my point, my reasoning becoming more shrill the longer I went on. I found I was repeating myself, and she had yet to utter a word. My tirade petered out. After a minute of silence, she quietly asked, "Are you finished?" "Um, yeah, I guess." "Good. You've had your say. Now, I'm going to have mine. Like it or not, you have a problem. I've been extremely patient about it. I've even been the one to clean up after you. It's not going away. It's getting worse. We are going to be staying with my friend. I do not want you embarrassing me or yourself by wetting her bed. You are going to wear those diapers, and you are going to stop fussing about it. If you insist on being a big baby about it, I can treat you like one. That includes pulling this car over, spanking you again, and putting you in one of those diapers for the rest of the trip. I'm already not happy with you. Would you like to try your luck?" "No." "Good." The trip was mostly silent aside from some tunes softly playing on the radio. I stared out the window, opting to table the discussion for the time being. Occasionally, she nudged me and told me to stay awake, unless I wanted to put a diaper on and take a nap. Eventually, I faced forward, so she could see I was awake, and pouted. If I had been eight or ten or even twelve, I suppose these events would be understandable. But I was not twelve, and the woman driving was not my mommy. I was thirty-two, and she was my wife. When we arrived, Kathy, my wife, and Sharon hugged and air kissed like long-lost sisters. Sure, we lived far enough apart that they didn't see each other often, but they were on the phone at least once a week. I shook my head and got the bags. "Sorry we're late," Kathy said. "Packing took a bit longer than I expected." I had the impression that comment was aimed at me, but I ignored it. "Don't worry about it. It's just so good to see you. I know how it can be. You should try it with a baby sometime. I still can't believe the amount of stuff I had to get ready for Phil to take Abby for the week." I tried to picture Sharon's ex taking care of a baby on his own. I don't know if I found the images more funny or frightening. Oh well, maybe one of his girlfriends will help him out. "Yes," Kathy mused. "Packing for a baby can be a lot of work." I was sure that was directed at me. Again, I chose to ignore it. "Come on inside. Dinner's almost ready. Dave, you can take those right upstairs, first door on the right. You know the spot." When I came downstairs, Kathy asked, "Did you wash your hands?" I didn't like the way they both giggled. "Yes, I washed my hands," I replied irritably. "Don't be grumpy. I was just asking." Dinner was a long drawn out affair. Kathy and Sharon went on and on about this one and that one. I was mostly ignored, which suited me fine. I didn't have the slightest interest in whoever and whatever they were talking about. Mainly, I just picked at my food and drank more than my share of wine. During a lull, Sharon turned to me, "So, Dave, what's new and exciting with you these days?" "Nothing much," I mumbled. "Don't mind him," Kathy interjected. "I think he's just overtired from the trip. I'm sure he didn't mean to be rude." Her accusing tone was not lost on me. "Sorry. I guess I am a little tired." "I think we better get you into bed then." "Why, Kathy!" Sharon exclaimed. "I meant to sleep, you sex fiend," she laughed. "Come on, Davey, upstairs." Whether it was the trip or the wine, I was tired. I bade Sharon goodnight and climbed the stairs ahead of Kathy. "You go potty, then meet me in the bedroom," she said. Not thinking, I did as instructed. When I got to the bedroom, I saw her laying out the diaper on the bed. That's where you came in. Kathy had me tucked in and started to leave to room. "Where are you going? Aren't you coming to bed?" "Not just yet. Sharon and I have more to talk about, and there's most of a bottle of wine it would be a shame to waste. You go to sleep, and I'll be up in a while. I lay there for a time, replaying the day in my head. If I hadn't been tired and buzzed, I might have been more upset. Every now and again, I would hear their raucous laughter. I did my best not to believe they were talking about my sleeping attire. My thoughts turned to how I got into this mess in the first place. It started about month before. I had gotten a new boss, and it wasn't going well. Nothing seemed to please him. There was always something wrong, and no matter how small the problem was, he acted like it was the end of civilization as we know it. The harder I tried to anticipate what was wanted, the farther my attempts were from what he had in mind. I tried to get clearer instructions, but that only seemed to make him madder. It was really taking a toll on me and, no doubt, on Kathy. I was a nervous wreck. I couldn't set work aside at the end of the day. All I could think of was what the next confrontation was going to be about. I was distracted and short tempered. Even my dreams were filled with anxieties about everything that had happened and visions of what might be ahead. When I was able to sleep at all, it wasn't good. After a week of mostly sleepless nights, I found myself shaken awake by Kathy. I was completely disoriented and not hearing what she was saying. I don't know how many times she repeated it before it finally sank in. "David, wake up. You wet the bed." "What?" "You wet the bed." I rolled toward her, and it dawned on me. I wet the bed. That's right. She said that. Still only half awake, all I could say was, "I'm sorry." Kathy told me to go to the bathroom and clean up, and she would take care of the bed. Still to fuzzy to think, I did as she told me. My wet pajamas cooled quickly as I went. I stripped off and sat on the toilet, trying to clear my head. By the time I was awake enough to push out the little pee I had left and get washed up. I was deeply embarrassed by what I had done. I almost wanted to stay in the bathroom just to avoid having to look at Kathy. When I did come out, she was smoothing out towels over the wet spot. I almost went back in. "Good, you're finally back. Help me get the clean sheets on. Maybe we can still get some sleep before we have to get up." I picked up the bottom sheet and shook it out. She signaled she was ready, and I fluffed it over the bed. The two of us made short work of remaking the bed, and I thought Kathy was being really good about the situation. "Did you make sure to go peepee while you were in there?" So much for that. "Yes," I said, a bit more harshly than I intended. "Don't get snippy with me. I'm not the reason we're changing sheets in the middle of the night." "Sorry," I said, and I meant it. "Me too. Let's go back to bed, and we'll forget all about it. Okay?" "Okay," I said and hugged her tight. "I love you, and I am sorry." "I love you too. Now, go to sleep. Morning's going to come awfully early." That was easier said than done. I don't know how Kathy managed it. I lay there listening to her breathing, wondering how I could have wet myself and worrying that I might do it again. I think I drifted off just before the alarm went off. Work the next day was miserable. Besides the usual grief from my boss, my eyes were burning, and my head was pounding all day. By the time I got home, I was an exhausted wreck. After pushing my dinner around the plate for a while, I told Kathy I was going to bed. "I think that's a good idea. You had a rough night, and you look awful." "Thanks a lot." "You know what I mean. Go on. I'll clean up here. Don't forget to use the potty before you go night-night." "Not funny!" "Oh, come on. You know I'm joking. You may as well laugh as cry. It was just a one-time thing. Go get some rest, and I'm sure you'll feel better in the morning." I nodded and followed her advice, even stopping to "use the potty" on the way. Totally wiped out, I was asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow. Not that it brought much rest. My dreams were the now usual of instant replays and anxious fantasies I had suffered for days. "Wake up, David," I heard, before I felt the shaking. "David, wake up." Once I realized it was Kathy, and not my mother trying to get me up for school, I sat bolt upright, panicking that I had done it again. "I'm sorry," I blurted out. "I didn't mean to. I couldn't help it." "It's alright, Dave," she said soothingly. "You didn't do anything. You didn't, did you? You were just having a bad dream. But as long as you're up, you may as well use the potty, just to be safe." I apologized and kissed her, and then decided a pee might be a good idea at that. There was a small wet spot on my pajama pants, but the bed was dry. I didn't mention it, and if Kathy noticed, she was kind enough to let it pass. Having limited my fluids all day, I don't know where it all came from. I did know I feel a lot better when I climbed back into bed. I slept better that night and felt more like my old self in the morning. That lasted for about an hour after I got to work. Then it was what had come to be business as usual. It was a particularly bad day. I was pushed and pulled in so many directions, I was beginning to doubt the sky was blue. If I had been thinking clearly, I probably would have guessed it was going to happen again. Kathy was again supportive and more patient than I felt I deserved. Again, she got us cleaned up and back to sleep in short order. I had a few good days, with no nighttime problems, even though things were just as bad, if not worse at work. I was starting to feel confident when it happened a third time. I was so frustrated I wanted to scream, and I think Kathy knew it. Once back in bed, she held me and whispered reassuring things until I went to sleep. The pattern continued, and I ended up having five wet nights in two weeks. After the last of those, Kathy sat me down in the morning. "Dave, this… um… problem you've been having is not getting better. I think you should see somebody about it." The thought of telling my doctor and friend, George Simmons, that I was wetting the bed filled me with dread. "That's not really necessary. I'm sure it will stop on its own. It's not that big a deal." "Says the man who's not washing the sheets. You're right. It may be nothing serious, but then again it might be. And, frankly, I'm getting tired of being woken up in the middle of the night and having to clean up after you. Get on that phone and make an appointment, or I'll do it for you." "Alright, alright, I'll call." I was greatly relieved when George's office told me they couldn't fit me in for at least two weeks. I begged off making an appointment, telling them that I was just feeling a little under the weather, and it would probably pass before they could see me. Kathy was not happy but understood it was not my fault, and she let the matter drop. Or so I thought. That afternoon, I got a call from her telling me to meet her at Dr. MacPherson's office at 4:30. Having to tell my boss I needed to leave early while avoiding the reason was not a pleasant conversation to say the least. I was happy just to get out of there when the time came. At least, I was until I was on the way and started thinking about what was going to happen at the appointment. Margaret MacPherson had been my doctor growing up. Her general practice had served all my family, and Kathy became her patient shortly after we were married. After college, when I had some voice in the matter, I insisted that seeing a female doctor was uncomfortable, and that's when I came under George's care. I was not looking forward to going back to her. Dr. MacPherson—I never could bring myself to call her anything else—literally knew me inside and out. She had seen me through all my childhood illnesses, broken bones, acne, and everything else. To me, she would always be Dr. MacPherson. Kathy, on the other hand, having come to her later in life, always call her Margaret. They had become fast friends, and Dr. MacPherson was almost a surrogate mother to Kathy. Kathy and I were called back shortly after I arrived. We were shown into a room where Dr. MacPherson was waiting for us. "Kathy, how wonderful to see you! And Davey, just look at you, so grown up!" With her rosy cheeks, halo of white hair, and the soft Glasgow burr that never left her, it was impossible to be upset by her comment. She was everybody's favorite grandmother. "Hello, Dr. MacPherson. It's nice to see you again." "And you too, dear. How is your mother? I miss seeing her since she moved away." "She's well, thank you. I'll tell her you were asking after her." "Oh, yes, do. So, what brings you in today?" I sat there trying to think of some way to tell her why I was there. I could feel my face getting redder and redder. Still, no words would come out. Finally, Kathy just took over. "Davey," she said, using the same boyhood nickname, "has been having some problems keeping the bed dry at night." There it was, right out on the table. "Oh! Is your wee problem back, dear?" the doctor asked gently. She placed her hand on top of mine reassuringly but couldn't avoid a small titter at her unintended pun. I'm sure Kathy had thought she was trying to be discrete about the issue, but it felt more like a mother trying to be gentle about a child's potty-training setbacks. My mother had used almost those same words many years before. "Back?" Kathy asked. "Oh my, yes, dear," she said without regard for my embarrassment. "Davey was quite the little waterworks when he was a boy, weren't you, Davey. I wondered for a long time if we would ever get him out of nappies." It finally dawned on her that this was extremely uncomfortable for me. I am sure that my face was bright red. I could feel heat radiating from the blush. "But that was a long time ago, wasn't it dear? What seems to be the problem?" Without hesitation, Kathy began describing my symptoms as if I weren't in the room or too small to speak for myself. "He doesn't seem to be sleeping well. He's constantly tossing and turning, and he's always still tired when he wakes up. He's been distant and irritable, and every few days, he wets the bed." "Oh, I'm so sorry. What seems to be the problem, Davey? Is something bothering you?" With some prompting and a great deal of prodding, I told the whole story about what was going on at work. Kathy knew or guessed some of it, but I did not want to let on just how bad it really was. Once they got me to open up, it all came pouring out. The exhaustion and that day's fight with the boss caught up with me, and I was sobbing by the time I finished the tale. I was calming down before I realized Kathy had pulled my head to her shoulder, and she was stroking my hair and shushing me gently. Dr. MacPherson's face was a mix of sympathy and anger. "It's just like that teacher you had all over again. Och, that woman! I'd still like to get my hands on her." She told the story of Mrs. Hannity, my fourth-grade teacher. She was nearing retirement and had a grandson who was a spoiled rotten little hellion. I had the misfortune of bearing him a striking resemblance, and she took out all complaints about him on me. I resented her accusations but came to half-believe that I was as bad as she made out. I fell into depressed and listless state, and my grades suffered. My mother asked me what was wrong, and I tried to tell her about my issues with the teacher and how unfair she was. My mother, of course, took the teacher's side and told me I had to stop being lazy and work harder, which is one of the things Mrs. Hannity accused me of. It all came to a head one day when I turned in a half-completed homework assignment. I had fallen asleep over the paper and didn't have time to finish it before school. Mrs. Hannity went on a tirade the likes of which I had never seen, not only about the homework but about the messy state of my desk and anything else she could think of. When she dumped my desk over onto the floor, I was so shocked and scared, I wet my pants. That stopped her ranting but infuriated her all the more. She went silent and the color rose in her face. She grabbed my ear and dragged me to the office. She told them she would not suffer a baby like me in her class. I sobbed and sobbed while the secretary called my mother. I was still in tears, shivering in my wet pants when she arrived. The ride home was no better, as she went on and on about how ashamed she was to have a boy my age wetting his pants in school, how I was going to have to apologize to everyone involved, and how was she ever going to be able to show her face again. I ran into the house, crying my eyes out. I stripped out of my wet clothes and threw myself on my bed and bawled my eyes out. It was all so unfair. I must have cried myself to sleep, because my mother was gently trying to rouse me. She appeared considerably calmer and asked me what had happened. I told her the whole story in lurid detail. The more I told her, the angrier she got but not at me. She took me in her arms and told me how sorry she was. When we had both settled down, she told me to wash up and get dressed. We were going back to the school. I begged her not to make me go. She told me not to worry about it, I would not have to be in Mrs. Hannity's class ever again, if she had anything to say about it. I followed with great reluctance as she strode into the office. "I want to see the principal. Now!" I had never seen my mother so forceful, not with adults anyway. I don't think the secretary had either, because we were shown into Mr. Mellon's office almost immediately. My mother really gave him an earful about all that had gone on. I was mostly ignored except to fill in some blanks and details. Mr. Mellon promised an investigation and said I'd be put into Miss Sanderson's class for the duration. For the year, my mother insisted and got her way. I don't know the full extent of what happened. I did have to tell the story one more time to some people I didn't know. Shortly after that, Mrs. Hannity "got sick," and we heard she was taking an early retirement. I felt and did better in Miss Sanderson's class. I think I even developed a little crush on her. Unfortunately, the damage had already been done. From the day of the incident until a long time after, I had nightmares about it and started wetting the bed. Today, we would call it post-traumatic stress disorder, but not back then, especially not with children. My mother was patient for a time, but it was short-lived. She took me to Dr. MacPherson, who recognized the problem and was sympathetic to both of us and assured us it would pass in time. There was little she could do, however, and her only recommendation was "night nappies," as she put it, until I got over it. Despite my protests and promises not to let it happen again, my mother agreed there was no other option. She insisted that she was as embarrassed about it as I was, but I didn't think that was possible. That was the first of many nights my mother put me in a diaper. It did not come without an argument and a couple of slaps on my behind. The nightmares eventually stopped but the wetting didn't. I was in middle school before I was reliably dry, and the diapers were a thing of the past. Nevertheless, my mother kept a waterproof cover on my bed through high school, "just in case." Now, here I was again, facing the same problem for much the same reasons. Dr. MacPherson was again sympathetic and reassuring, but her solution was the same. She prescribed some antidepressants and anti-anxiety medication, but until I could deal with the stressors, I could expect more wet nights. The best thing was to start wearing nappies to keep the bed dry and allow us both a decent night's sleep. She recommended we get them from a medical supply store, as the ones to be found in supermarkets and pharmacies were virtually useless. She recommended a shop that could also fill my prescriptions. "Don't worry, dear," she comforted me. "I'm sure you'll get over it, and you'll be all dry in no time, just like before." Knowing how long that "before" lasted, I was not reassured. Kathy thanked Dr. MacPherson for both of us and promised to call her to have lunch soon. Dr. MacPherson bade us goodbye and made me promise to send her regards to my mother. Kathy drove us to the medical store. I begged her not to make me wear diapers. It was like reliving the argument with my mother all those years ago. Kathy would have none of it and insisted I go inside with her. There, she handed over the prescription and proceeded to ask the lady about "nighttime protection." She lady asked a lot of, to my mind, unnecessary and intrusive questions. Kathy went into lurid detail about the problems I was having and how heavily I wet. She insisted we should buy a whole case of their most absorbent product, saying she would take back any unopened packages if things cleared up in a short time, but the case lot was far more economical if the problem persisted. Kathy agreed, and I had to carry a huge box of all too conspicuously labeled "adult briefs" to the car. I took up the argument again at bedtime. It was just like been ten years old all over again, me begging and promising not to wet anymore, Kathy reasoning that I couldn't make that promise, and she wanted a good night's sleep. It all got rather heated until Kathy gave me a couple of swats on the behind and told me that was enough. I was again the little boy at the mercy of his mother. I lay down and let her put the dreaded thing on. Memories flooded back as she raised the thick padding between my legs. I was weeping when she fastened the last tape and gave the front a pat. I lay awake for a time, feeling sorry for myself, but the drugs kicked in, and I soon drifted off. I'm pretty sure I had nightmares again, mixed up visions of my boss and Mrs. Hannity. I panicked when Kathy shook me awake. I quickly felt for the felt for the wet spot and blurted out that I didn't wet the bed. Kathy told it was just time to get up, and I realized there was sunlight coming in the window. I was relieved until Kathy gave my crotch a squeeze. We both knew in an instant that I had not had a dry night. Not dry at all, I realized when I stood, and the diaper sagged between my legs. It was with a good deal of depression that I took it off and had my shower, and I still had work to look forward to. It was hard to think of anything else that day, and my boss was no better than usual. The only thing that got me through was the thought that I would be leaving for vacation that afternoon. I had used some accumulated sick time to take the extra half-day off for the drive to Sharon's house. I was happy to leave the office and my boss behind. Those were my thoughts as I drifted off. Soon enough, I felt Kathy climb in next to me. She curled up against my back, and I felt her hand work around to the front. She squeezed my crotch, and I thought she was up to something good. Then I heard her whisper. "You'll last till morning." Whereupon, she rolled over. I was too much asleep to fully comprehend what she meant. There must have been a part of me that did understand, as I slept fitfully after that. I have vague recollections of dreams wherein I was being scolded by my mother for wetting my pants… again. When I felt Kathy shaking me awake, I didn't feel much more rested than when I went to sleep. To top it off, my head was pounding. "Good thing we put that on you. I hope that satisfies you that I know what I'm doing, and we won't have a problem again tonight." I felt the squish when I rolled over, as well as a pounding in my skull. I couldn't bear to look at her, but I managed to mumble a dejected, "No." She reached down and undid the tapes. I tried to help, but she just swatted my hands away. "Why don't you go take a shower? I'm sure it will make you feel better. There's coffee waiting when you're done." She handed me my pajama pants, and I took her up on her advice. The shower did help. I felt almost human when I got out. If only that guy would lay off the drums. Not ready for the rigors of getting dressed, I returned to my pajamas and a robe and went downstairs. Coffee, lots of it, finished the job. By the time I had had something to eat, I was moderately ready to face the day. "Okay," Kathy said. "Get dressed. We're going shopping." I groaned, showing none of the enthusiasm she had. "Shopping? Really? Do I have to go? I'm still tired, and my head hurts." I admit it. I was whining. "Yes, you have to go. You're not going to just waste the day or get into who knows what kind of trouble. Besides, it's your own fault your head hurts. Now, upstairs; scoot." "You know," Sharon intervened. "He does still look a little green behind the gills." That made me like Sharon a little more. Kathy looked me over. "Hmm, maybe. We'll discuss it while he gets dressed. Let's go." Kathy shut the bedroom door, and I turned to her. "Don't make me go. You know I'll be useless and bored, and I really don't feel all that well." "You do look a little under the weather," she conceded. "Though I don't know why you should be rewarded for tying one on last night." "It's not a reward. Trust me, I'm being punished for last night. Please let me stay here. You two will have a lot more fun without me." "You're probably right at that. But I'm not so sure about leaving you here alone. If you're as tired as you say you are, you'll probably take a nap, and that risks Sharon's furniture. No, you'll just have to come along." "Please, honey, I'll stay awake, I promise. Besides, I never have problems during the day." "That's because you don't sleep in the day. I think it's best you come along." "Aww! Please don't make me. Nothing will happen; I promise." I gave her my best puppy dog eyes. "Well," she considered, "I suppose there might be one way." "Yes! Yes! Whatever you say. Just don't make me go with you." "You're sure now? It really means that much for you to stay here?" "Yes! Absolutely. I'll do it." "Alright, but you insisted. There's no turning back now. Go potty, and we'll get your diaper on." "What!" "That's the deal. You said you are too tired to go, and I can't trust you to stay awake or not wet in your sleep. If you stay home, I want you in a diaper. That way I can feel safe if you do take a nap." "But I said I'd stay awake. I have work I can do. That'll keep me awake." "We're on vacation. You shouldn't be working. Besides, we both know how well you stay on task without someone to watch you. No, diapers or shopping; it's your choice." I was torn. It was bad enough having to wear them at night, but at least I could ignore them then. On the other hand, department stores, fitting rooms, girl talk. "Fine. You win." And I went across to the bathroom. The diaper was already laid out when I got back. Condemned to my fate, I took off my clothes and lay down. Kathy efficiently diapered me. "Wait a second. What if I have to pee?" "That should be obvious." "But I'll be awake." "This was your idea." "It was not my idea! It was yours." "Alright, maybe the idea was, but it was your choice, and it's been made. We're not wasting that diaper, just because you didn't think it through." She appeared to be thinking of something. She reached in her purse and pulled out a marker. Before I knew what she was up to, she was marking her initials over the intersections of the tapes and the plastic. "That'll make sure you don't try taking it off as soon as I'm out the door. If you do, I'll know, and you'll get that spanking, Sharon or no Sharon." She got thoughtful again, and then she threw me for a loop. She pulled out another diaper. "What are you going to do with that?" I asked, shocked. "I'm going to double diaper you. I don't know how long we'll be out, and I can't take a chance of your leaking. The two should hold all your peepees. Up." It was obvious I was not going to win here. I let her put it on me. She used her long fingernails to poke a few holes in the inner one before taping up the outer. She repeated the trick with the marker. She gave the whole package as couple of satisfied pats. "There, all snug and safe and ready for your day. Now, since you claim you are not feeling well, I expect you to take it easy. Nap if you can. I want you feeling better, so we can do things together the rest of our stay." "Okay," I sighed. "Don't take that tone. You got what you wanted." I hadn't but didn't argue the point. "Get dressed and come say goodbye to Sharon and me." Kathy left the room, and I stood up to dress. The bulk between my legs was incredible. A bowlegged waddle was all I could manage. I tried to put on some khakis, but it wasn't happening. I resigned myself to putting my pajamas back on and threw on my robe. Stairs aren't easy when you can't put your knees together. I had to take them one at a time, and each one was accompanied by a distinct rustling I really hoped only I could hear. I stood as still as I could by the door and let the ladies come to me for a quick kiss and hug goodbye. Kathy surreptitiously patted my bottom and told me to be a good boy. I'm sure I jumped. I only hoped Sharon didn't notice, but her smile didn't make me optimistic. I watched them drive away and wondered what I was going to do with myself. It was difficult to walk normally, and the crinkling, exceptionally loud to my ears, was distracting. I did have some work I could do, but I wasn't enthused by the prospect. I got out my laptop anyway and set up at the kitchen table. After getting a cup of coffee and checking my email, all junk, I opened my work project. I stared at it for fifteen minutes or so before closing it down again. I was on vacation and in no mood to work. Actually, I wasn't in the mood for much of anything. The double thick diaper kept me focused on my problems and my plight. I figured, or hoped anyway, that I was not alone. Surely there were other men this happened to. Maybe there was some advice on how to handle the situation, preferably advice that did not rely on diapers. If I could show Kathy some alternative, maybe she would relent. The internet was not coming to my rescue. Oh, there was some consolation in finding out that I was not the only adult who experienced bedwetting problems. Most of the information indicated that they were stress related and would eventually pass along with the stressors. There were other causes that were, quite frankly, kind of scary. I would have to consider seeing a doctor. Not my regular doctor. I thought I would die if I had to tell George about this problem. The shock for me, though, was not the number of people who had the problem but the number who seemed to revel in it and the number who didn't have it but wanted to. The number of stories, true, fictional, or mixed, was staggering. Most seemed to be fantasy, or mostly so. That of itself was cause for thought. The number of those where the problem was dealt with by the sufferer's wife, girlfriend or mother enforcing the use of diapers was frightening. Apparently, I was not alone, either in diapers or in being spanked. At least some of the stories had to contain some truth. While I was reading, my morning coffee was catching up with me. I made a vow that I would wait it out and show Kathy my wearing diapers was ridiculous, at least during the day. I was not quite so confident about nighttime. Unfortunately, the amount of coffee I drink, and the effects it has on my bladder, made me doubt my resolve pretty quickly. I held on for as long as I could, but after a couple of painful spasms and a look at how little time had gone by, I knew I couldn't take it. The flood that followed was mind-blowing. As hard as it is to admit, the relief, after fighting the urge for so long, was almost orgasmic. That is until the reality of the situation began to sink in. I was sitting there in a soaking wet diaper, a grown man wallowing in his own pee. I could feel the wetness all around me, and I was sure that I had to have leaked. I stood up and checked the chair, bone dry. I checked out the diaper as best I could. Except for a few small spots between my legs, where I remembered Kathy poking holes, it showed no sign of what I did. I felt disgusted with myself but relieved I hadn't flooded the kitchen. Under Kathy's implicit threat and my explicit promise, I knew I was stuck in this situation until they got back. I could only hope it wouldn't be too long and that Kathy would give me some warning of their return. It was going to be bad enough facing her, having wet myself. The idea that Sharon might notice was unthinkable. Having no way out of my predicament without making Kathy more mad at me, I went back to my research. I decided to concentrate on how people like me felt about the situation. "People like me," there was a strange thought. Only hours before, I would have considered identifying a community of adults in diapers crazy. As expected, I found embarrassment, depression, and a fair amount of self-loathing. I did not expect to find so many people who gave every impression that they enjoyed being in diapers. I certainly never expected to find that group that referred to themselves as Adult Babies, people who actively sought out the opportunity to relive the experience of being toddlers or even younger. I found the pictures rather disconcerting. Was that where I was headed? It was inevitable that I would have to pee again while I surfed away. The need was less pronounced, and the hour was getting later. Again, I tried to hold off. I hadn't lasted very long when the other effect coffee has started to hit me. I was not going to give into that one, but holding that back made the pressure on my bladder worse. Eventually, it came down to a choice of the lesser of two evils. I was already wet, so the decision to wet some more was not difficult. The feeling was not as intense as before, but I did feel a lot better, and the other urge seemed to abate. I was hungry now, and made myself some lunch, just a quick sandwich and some juice. More coffee seemed like a bad idea. Eating took my mind off my troubles for the moment. It also made me sleepy. I felt that a nap might not be such a bad idea after all and went upstairs to lie down. I guess I didn't realize how tired I was, as I was rather disoriented when I heard Sharon's bright announcement that they were home. I rolled over with a squish. I knew without looking that I had wet in my sleep, and the diaper was considerably fuller than when I came upstairs. I also realized my other problem was coming back with a vengeance. There was a deep rumble in my gut that would need attention and soon. I was trying to shake off the cobwebs and figure out what to do when I heard footsteps on the staircase. That made me panic, which didn't help my situation any. The door swung open, and there was Kathy, thankfully alone. "What's the matter," she asked, concerned. "I… uh… hi," I said. "You must have needed that nap," she said, walking over to the bed. "Any problems while we were gone?" "Um… no… not really. Now that your home can I take this… thing off?" "Yes, I think so. Just let me make sure you were a good boy and didn't mess with it." Before I could stop her, she had the covers pulled back. I made a grab for my pajama bottoms, but she sharply slapped my hands. She wrestled the pants down while I begged her not to. "Oh my god! It's a good thing I put you in two. You're soaked." "Uh… yeah… you were gone a long time. Now please let me take this off. I have to go." "I can't imagine you have anything left in you." "Not that, the other." "Oh! Does my little boy have to go poopy?" she asked with a little too much relish. "Please, Kathy. This is hard enough." "Aww. Is it hard to hold it? Do you want to make a boom-boom in your diaper?" "Kathy, enough. Just let me up." I was getting desperate. "Don't get snippy with me, Mr. Soggybottom. Go on, if you have to go so bad." She got out of the way, and I leapt from the bed. I made for the bathroom and fell flat on my face. My pants were still around mid-thigh. The fall distracted me, and I pooped a little. Please don't let it smell, I hoped. Kathy was at my side in a second, helping me to my feet. She pulled up my pants and gave my bottom a pat. I started for the door. "Not so fast. Come back here." "Kathy, I really need to…" "Here. Now," she said, pointing at the floor in front of her. I clenched my cheeks and went to the spot. "Turn around." I knew arguing about it was not going to get me anywhere. I did as I was told and hoped against hope that what I knew was coming wouldn't. It did. She pulled back the waistbands of my pajamas and diapers and looked down the back. "I don't believe it. You did. You filthy little boy." She grabbed my ear and started dragging me toward the bathroom. That painful shock and sudden unbalance caused me to drop more into the seat of my pants. I felt sick. Kathy slammed the bathroom door behind us. "Really? Really? You actually pooped your pants. Unbelievable. What have you got to say for yourself?" I tried to come up with an explanation. My mouth moved, but nothing came out. Kathy gave an exasperated sigh. "Get those pajamas off." I did and turned to put them on a hook. "Did you go more?" She felt the back of my pants. "You did, didn't you? I can't believe you. Lie down." I squatted down slowly, trying to minimize the additional mess this was going to make. "Is everything alright in there?" Sharon was at the door! In that position, it was all too much for me. Whatever was left in my bladder and bowels found its way into my pants. It was all I could do to hold back the tears. "Yes, I guess so," Kathy sighed. "Just a little emergency we need to take care of." "Nothing serious, I hope." "Nothing a bath won't fix." "A bath?" Silence. "Oh. Well, never mind. Come down when you're ready. I'll start dinner." "Alright, stinker. Let's get you cleaned up." She started the bath running. That's when tears started. Thoroughly ashamed, I lay down and let Kathy untape the diapers. "Oh, God!" she choked. "Why did you do that in your pants? Why didn't you just take it off?" "You told me I couldn't!" "I know did, but I didn't mean you should…" She rubbed her temples and took a deep breath. "Okay. I guess this is partly my fault. I could have thought it through better and been clearer with you, but only partly. You're having some difficulties with your bladder, and I understand the reasons for that. It's okay. I just put you in a diaper to protect you and Sharon's furniture. But you are certainly old enough to know you shouldn't poop your pants, no matter what I said. I can't believe you did that." She sighed and dumped the poop in the toilet. "Just get in the shower. I'm getting a headache and can't talk about this now." I got in and let the stink and humiliation wash off of me. Clean and smelling better, I was feeling somewhat better when I got out. Then I noticed the diapers were gone. What had Kathy done with them? I didn't know what I would have done with them, but they had to go somewhere. What if Sharon saw them? My head was spinning, and my heart was pounding when I got dressed and went downstairs. Sharon didn't say anything when I entered the kitchen, but her sympathetic smile was all I needed to know the cat was out of the bag. Avoiding eye contact, I mumbled hello and took a seat at the table. I spent the remainder of the evening trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. Despite knowing a diaper was in my future, I was almost looking forward to going to bed. When Kathy suggested I take my meds and make an early night of it, I had no objections. "Meds? Are you sick, Dave?" "No," Kathy explained for me. "Dave's been really stressed out at work, and the doctor just gave him something to get over the hump." "Oh, is that why he's…" She stopped short. "Well, I just hope you start feeling better real soon." "Thanks. Goodnight." I went upstairs with Kathy close behind. She closed the door behind us, and I turned on her. "How could you tell her?" I said sharply, keeping my voice low. "How could I not? I had to get rid of that diaper, and she was right there. There was no avoiding it." "But she… How can I face… I can't…" My frustration mounted as I tried to speak. Grasping for words, my emotions got the best of me, and my eyes filled with tears. "I want to go home." I sank down on the bed and cried. With my face in my hands, I sobbed, "Why? Why? Why? I can't do this anymore. I can't take it. I just want to die." Kathy grabbed my head and forced me to look at her. "Don't you ever say that! I love you. I don't want to live without you. You are not to even think like that, do you understand me? If you ever say anything like that again, I swear, I'll spank you so hard…" She sat down and took me in her arms. She was crying too. "We'll get through this, together. Just don't ever think about leaving me like that. I love you so much." We sat like that for a long time, holding each other and letting it all out. I was drained and hardly noticed when Kathy began to undress me. Filled with love for her, I started to caress her. "No, honey. I think we are both too tired for that tonight. Let's get your diaper on. It's been a rough day all around." Disappointed but with no strength to object, I let her dress me. She got me a glass of water to take my meds, and she tucked me into bed. She held me until I went to sleep. I don't remember her leaving, but I sort of noticed her getting back in. I rolled over and snuggled close to her. I was wet again the next morning but felt more rested. I was alone. There was a stack of clothes on the bed with a plastic bag and a note on top. "Get dressed and come downstairs. You can put your diaper in the bag and bring that with you." I put the wet diaper in the bag, had a quick wash and got dressed. I wasn't looking forward to carrying the object of my shame downstairs, but I and it couldn't stay there forever. Sharon and Kathy were having coffee in the kitchen. I tried to dispose of the package as discretely as possible, but I think I only managed to draw more attention to myself. "Honey, sit down. We need to talk about something." Here we go, I thought. This wasn't going to be good. Sharon brought me a cup of coffee. That helped some. "Sweetheart, I know you are really uncomfortable about all this, but I think we have to acknowledge the elephant in the room. We are all aware that you are going to have to wear diapers to bed for a while. There, I said it. Diapers, diapers, diapers. Pretending that you don't is making us all uncomfortable. Sharon understands, and so do I. It's not your fault; it's just the way things are right now. Your trying to hide from the fact is just creating more stress you don't need. So, as of now, we are going to stop walking on eggshells and simply accept your diapers as a fact of life. Among ourselves, we'll speak openly about them if needed, and we won't make a big deal about disposing of them. That will save us all a lot of worry and trouble." I just stared into my coffee cup. I did not want to look at anyone, especially Sharon. I was fine pretending. Having to acknowledge the problem to someone else was not something I wanted to do. "It's okay, Dave," Sharon said. "I know the pressure you are under, and I understand how you feel." "How could you?" "I see this all the time in my work. People come in all the time feeling overwhelmed by it all. They feel the whole world wants something of them they can't give. They feel powerless to change the situation or fight back. They react in all kinds of ways. All too many of them turn to drugs or alcohol, and that only makes things worse. All things considered, a little thing like bedwetting is not so bad." "That's easy for you to say. You're not the one who has to wear…" "Diapers. You can say it. You're not weak or lazy or whatever else you are telling yourself to bring you down. It's a stress reaction, nothing more. From what Kathy tells me about your boss, I'm proud of you for not turning to something self-destructive. You just need to find a way to deal with the stress, to let it go, to feel empowered. You feel helpless, and I'm sure you think the diapers prove it. On the contrary, by wearing them, you are taking control of the situation by the best means possible. By wearing them, you're getting rest; Kathy's getting rest; the bed is staying clean and dry. The way I figure it, you've taken a big first step in getting better." "Thanks, I guess." I didn't really feel any better. "Dave," Kathy said, "I think there's something else you should consider. There's no rush, especially as we are on vacation; so, take as much time as you need. I think you should really think about quitting your job." "I can't just quit." "Not so fast, hear me out. Your boss is a bully. I'm sure he'll be found out eventually, but in the meantime, your life there is going to be miserable. I don't think you can really get better, if you stay there. You might learn to live with it, but at what cost? We've been doing alright. We don't actually need both our salaries. With a little bit of trimming, we can live on what I make. If it takes you a while to find something else, we'll make do. And I bet you could always get some work on a consulting basis. I'm not saying you have to quit, but it's an option, and you'll have my support. Just think it over." "I can't just let you support me," I protested. "You'd support me, if I had to quit, wouldn't you?" "That's different." "Why? Because you're a man? Look at the calendar. It's not the 1950s anymore. We're partners. We support each other, no matter what. If you never took another job and just stayed home and took care of the house, you'd still be supporting me. That's what we do. We have each other's back." "But I'd feel so…" "For a while, maybe," Sharon interjected, "but you'll get over that. I had a patient who went through much the same thing. He felt bad about it for a while, but once he got used to it, he loved being a househusband. He felt like he was making a real contribution. He was able to do things he never had time for. He makes a little money on the side from his hobbies. He's very happy. He says some of his friends tell him in private that they envy him." "I don't know…" "Just think about it. Take all the time you need," Kathy said. "A day, a week, a month, whatever you need, but think about it seriously. I think it would be good for you, but it's your decision. Whatever you decide, I'm behind you, but please, please, do consider it." "Alright," I said, as much to end the conversation as anything. "Good, it's settled." I didn't think it was settled at all but let it go. "Now, Sharon tells me there's an exhibition downtown that's right up your alley. Finish your coffee, and let's go." The exhibition was as good as advertised. I don't know about the girls, but I had a good time. Model trains aren't everybody's cup of tea. Kathy knew my fascination, even though I hadn't had a set since I was a kid. I think she was bored after the first ten minutes, but she let me have the run of the place to gawk over them. She and Sharon feigned interest when I explained all about the different scales and old rail lines. They smiled and nodded, and then let me run off to the next display while they hung about to talk. The rest of week was taken up with various activities. Some I enjoyed more than others, none as much as the trains. It was all a good distraction from my troubles and had me worn out by evening. Between the activity and the meds, I was getting some much-needed rest. When I woke up dry on Friday morning, I thought I was turning a corner. Kathy praised me, which actually made me feel a little worse, but I took it in the spirit it was intended and didn't say anything. That night, it was decided, we would stay in for movies and margaritas. I took it easy, because I didn't know how the alcohol would react with my meds. Kathy made up for it, drinking the rest of my share as well as her own. She was pretty toasted by the end of the evening. She knocked over her glass and cut here finger picking up broken pieces. I thought we might have to take her to the emergency room, but we got the bleeding stopped pretty quickly. "Geez, that hurts," she slurred. "Um, Sharon? I'm not sure I can take care of Davey like this. Would you mind?" "What!" Sharon and I said in unison. "This really hurts, and I'm not sure I can work the tapes." "I can do it myself." "I don't know that you can, and neither do you. You've never done it before, and it has to be harder to put one on yourself than someone else. I don't want you leaking all over the place by putting it on wrong, and I'm sure Sharon doesn't either." I looked to Sharon for support, but she had an amused grin on her face. She was actually warming to the idea. "You're right, Kathy. A diaper isn't much good if it leaks all over. Sure, I'll help out. I'm sure Davey won't mind." "But…" "It's not like she hasn't seen one before," Kathy said, anticipating my protest. "And it's just this one time. I'll be better tomorrow. You two go on upstairs. I'll clean up down here." "Just put everything in the sink. You shouldn't get that finger wet. Come on, Davey. Auntie Sharon will get you ready for night-night." "That's right," Kathy laughed. "You be a good boy for Auntie Sharon." I didn't like being treated like a little boy, but I wrote it off to their inebriation. I took Sharon's outstretched hand and followed her upstairs. She went right to work getting a diaper laid out for me. I stood there unsure I could go through with it. "Take off your pants, silly. We can't do anything with those on. Here, let Auntie help." Before I could react, she was undoing my pants and pushing them down. "Why, Davey! I'm flattered, but what would your mommy say?" I was deeply embarrassed by my tumescent state, but her reaction to it only made it worse. I started to apologize, but Sharon cut me off. "Don't worry about it. Little boys are always doing that when they get their diapers changed. Now, let's get those clothes off, so we can get you all wrapped up. We wouldn't want any accidents, would we?" Sharon was obviously more drunk than I thought. I hoped she, at least, wouldn't remember this in the morning. I told myself to just get through it, and finished undressing. I lay down on the open diaper and looked away, waiting for this to be over. "Oh, it looks like baby is getting a bit of a rash, I'd better get some powder for that." She started to leave but turned right around folded the front of the diaper up over me. "Just in case. You never know with boys." She was gone for a few minutes, which was enough for me to subside a little. She had just walked in the door when we heard a thud on the stairs. "Whoopsies," we heard between giggles. "You alright out there?" Sharon asked. "Yeah, fine. Be right up." There was another, smaller thump followed by more giggles. "Right up." Sharon shook her head, smiling, and got back to work. She drew back the diaper and sprinkled the powder, quite a lot in my opinion. That brought me back to my previous state. She started to smooth it, and I whimpered. Kathy chose that moment to walk in the door. "Davey, you naughty boy! I should spank you for that." "Don't spank him. He just a little sweet on his Auntie Sharon, aren't you, baby? Besides, you know how boys are. Remember when we used to babysit my cousins?" "Yes," Kathy laughed. "Roger especially. Did he get that from his father? Your aunt is a lucky woman." "So she says." All this talk was not helping my situation, neither was the fact that Sharon was still rubbing in the powder. Kathy sat down next to me. "Is that true, baby? Do you have a little crush on Auntie Sharon? Do you like it when she rubs you down there? Oops! I guess you do!" "Oh, dear. I guess we'll have to start over. I'll go get a washcloth." Sharon went to the bathroom, while I wished I could have died right there. "I guess wearing diapers has an upside after all," Kathy giggled. I just hoped she would feel the same way when she was sober. Sharon returned with a wet washcloth and with much greater efficiency, had me cleaned up, powdered and diapered in no time. I got up to put on my pajamas and take my meds. Kathy was lying back and moaning a little. "What about you, girlfriend? Are you going to be alright, or does Auntie Sharon need to put a diaper on you too? You don't look so good." "No. I'm a big girl," Kathy slurred. "Okay, but if you're wet in the morning, you'll be the one getting the spanking." That image had me stirring again. I helped Sharon undress Kathy and get her into the bed. Sharon kissed my cheek and told me not to worry. We were all friends and more than a little drunk. I knew that wasn't true of me but recognized it was her way of saying the episode was nothing more than a little harmless fun. We said goodnight, and I climbed in next to Kathy. I don't know if my dreams were more disturbing or exciting. I do know I wasn't anxious for them to end. I had visions of Kathy squirming across Sharon's lap when I realized those sounds weren't in my head. I turned to see Kathy gone and a good size wet spot in her place. I stumbled across the hall to find my dream a reality. Kathy was sprawled face down across Sharon's lap, pleading with Sharon to stop. Her obviously wet panties lay at her feet. "I told you, you should have worn a diaper last night," Sharon said as she landed a slap to Kathy's already glowing behind. "Remember those parties in college. You should know better than to drink that much." I shook my head, not believing what I was seeing. Sharon took notice of my presence. "Good morning, Davey. You see what happens to little girls who don't listen to Auntie?" "Oh no! Dave! Go away. Please." "Quiet," Sharon said with another slap. "And don't think it can't happen to little boys either. Well, young lady, have you learned your lesson yet?" "Yes. Yes!" "Alright, go get cleaned up, and bring those sheets down to be washed." Kathy scrambled off Sharon's lap and fairly ran from the room, avoiding eye contact with me. I could hear her sniffling in the bathroom. "You clean up too," Sharon instructed. "I'll start breakfast." That brought my attention to the diaper hanging low on my hips. I wasn't making as much progress as I had thought. I passed Kathy in the bathroom door. She still wouldn't look at me. She must have worked fast, because by the time I was clean and fresh, the bed was stripped, and she was nowhere in sight. I got dressed and found her in the kitchen helping with breakfast. She gave me a sheepish "good morning." I hugged her and gave her a kiss that was far more than perfunctory. That seemed to brighten her spirits. We all sat down to breakfast as if nothing had happened. I really wanted to know more about what I saw this morning but figured that wasn't the time to ask. It would keep and was probably none of my business anyway. We tidied up the dishes slowly, none of us wishing the visit to end. It was with no small amount of sadness that Kathy and I packed our things and said our goodbyes. We all promised to not wait so long till the next time, and for a change, I meant it. Despite the diapers and the embarrassment that went with them, I had a really good time. We drove in silence for quite some time. I was lost in my thoughts. There was a lot that happened that week and a lot to think about. Mostly though, I thought about what I had witnessed that morning. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore. "Kathy? Remember what you said about elephants in the room?" "Yes," she sighed. "What happened this morning?" It took her a long time to answer. She tried to get me to drop it, but I kept bringing it back up. "You're not going to let this go, are you? Alright, fine." You know Sharon was my sorority sister, right? Well, she was actually my big sister, a sophomore assigned to show a pledge the ropes and generally look after her. One of the things she did for me was to introduce me around. She was really popular and got invited to a lot of parties, and because she did, I did. It was at one of those parties that I got introduced to alcohol. I never drank in high school, and I avoided it the first couple of parties I went to. But it had been a rough week, and I gave in when somebody stuck a cup in my hand. At first, I didn't realize there was alcohol in it. It just seemed like a really sweet punch with a funny aftertaste. I was well into my second one before I knew I was getting buzzed. It felt good. I wanted more. I kept drinking. About the time I felt like I might have had too much, Sharon found me. She told me it was time to go back to the house. I don't think I would have made it without her. I'm sure I threw up at least once on the way. I don't really remember getting back to the house and her dumping me on the bed. I do remember waking up the next morning. Sharon was shaking my leg, telling me to get up. I never knew sunlight could be so painful. It tasted like something died in my mouth, and somebody was beating my head with a hammer. I begged Sharon to let me die in peace. Instead, she pulled off my blankets. I was suddenly very cold. "Oh, geez. Get up. We need to get this stuff in the wash." "Huh?" "Get up. You peed the bed." "What?" "You peed the bed. Get up." "Oh my god. No!" I started bawling. "Oh, come on. It's not that big a deal. Half the girls here did the same thing the first time they got drunk." "You?" "Me? No." "Great," I said dejectedly. "Listen, get yourself cleaned up, take some aspirin, have some coffee and toast, and then we can talk about it. Okay?" "Okay." The shower made me feel a little better. I hadn't really learned to drink coffee yet, but the toast helped some. I found Sharon back in my room. She had stripped the bed for me and turned my fan toward the mattress. I had found the rubberized fabric of the mattress strange when I first moved in. Now, I understood why the sorority used them. It was somewhat comforting to know I wasn't the only one, but I still felt ashamed. Sharon hugged me and told me not to worry about it. I was the first, and I wouldn't be the last. It happens to everyone. "It didn't happen to you." "Okay, maybe not everyone, but I've had my share of nights worshipping the porcelain god." The image of Sharon with her head in the toilet did make me chuckle and a little less embarrassed. "I swear, I'm never going to drink again." "Don't make promises you can't keep. You just have to learn to pace yourself. You have to watch those fruity drinks. They go down really easy, and before you know it, you've already had too many. You don't have to stop drinking if you don't want to. Just be careful." "Alright." I took my wet things down to the laundry room. I couldn't avoid passing some of the other girls. Most gave me sympathetic smiles, a kind of been there done that look. I was careful at the next few parties I went to. I did drink some, but I went slow and never let it get beyond a mild buzz. That ended after midterms. I felt so relieved to have made it over that hurdle, I let myself go. Sharon took me aside and told me I should ease up. I told her I was fine and bumped into a wall. She told me to remember what happened the last time. I waved her off. It was a good thing the party was at the sorority house, or I never would have made it home. As it was, Sharon found me the next morning on the floor of the bathroom. There was vomit in my hair and around the toilet bowl, and I was lying in a puddle of pee. Sharon got me on my feet and into the shower. She didn't bother with my clothes. That first burst of water was a real shock, and I thought my head would explode, and really hope that it would. As the water warmed, I started to feel human again. I got undressed and washed the assorted fluids of me. Sharon was waiting for with a towel. "Thank you," I said, drying off. "I feel awful. Never again." "You said that before. You should feel awful. You were really pounding them last night. You deserve that hangover. But listen, drinking like that isn't good for you; in fact, it's dangerous. Even if the alcohol doesn't kill you, you can do all kinds of crazy things to get hurt or let someone hurt you. And it sure isn't any fun for me, having to clean up after you." "I know. I'm sorry." "Yeah, yeah, save it. You're sorry, because you head hurts. But if you did anything to hurt the house while you were like that, it would be my ass on the line too. I'm responsible for you." "I didn't know. I'm sorry." "Well, just think about it. And think about what would happen if you got in real trouble. What if you got called in front of the dean?" I paled. "Oh my god. My mom would have my butt. I would be able to sit down for a month." "Your mom still spanks you." "Well, she did last year, when I came home an hour after curfew. She might." "Maybe that's what you deserve." Her face was passive. I couldn't tell if she meant it. "You're kidding right?" "Get drunk like that again, and we'll see." I was really good for the rest of the semester. I didn't let myself get more than a little tipsy. I did my work. My grades were good. I felt really good about myself. I had long forgotten that conversation in the shower. The end of term was my undoing. The night after finals, everyone was celebrating, including me. We had a grand old time. I again woke up with a horrible hangout and a wet bed. I was balling up the sheets when Sharon came to check on me. "You did it again, didn't you? I told you to slow down, didn't I? But do you listen? No. 'I'm fine, Sharon.' 'Go away, Sharon.' 'Mind your own business, Sharon.' And look at you now, wet sheets and pissy pants. Remember what I said after midterms?" "What? What are you talking about?" "I told you what would happen if you got this drunk again." I tried to remember, but the pounding in my head made it hard. "I told you deserved spanking then, and you'd get one the next time. This is the next time." "You can't be serious." "Oh, I'm very serious." Sharon grabbed my wrist, sat down on the bed and hauled me across her lap. A softball player, she was really strong, far stronger than me. I didn't stand a chance. "Sharon, no!" I screamed, as she whisked my panties down. She didn't say a word as she lit up my ass. I screamed and squirmed and begged, but she didn't let up until I was limp and bawling. She stood me up and held me while I cried myself out. I told her I was sorry, and I really meant it. "It's okay. It's all over now. Just don't let it happen again, or you'll get more of the same." She tilted my head up and looked into my eyes. "I love you, Kathy. I want you to be safe." She kissed me, not a kiss, kiss, but more than a peck. Then she left me to take care of my laundry and pack for the holidays. It was a long, thoughtful, and uncomfortable bus ride home. "Wow," was all I could think of. After digesting it for a bit, I couldn't help asking, "Did it ever happen again?" "The idea turns you on, doesn't it? Pervert," she chuckled. "If you must know, it did, but I'm not going into gory details." "What about that kiss? Was there more than that?" Kathy blushed and remained silent. I waited. "Okay, yes, we… experimented, nothing serious. I decided I preferred men… mostly." I filed that away. "What about Sharon?" "She's more of an omnivore," Kathy said smiling. "But that's all you're getting. Have you thought about what we talked about? Your job?" "Some. I haven't made any decisions." "Okay." The rest of the trip was idle chitchat and discussion of things we should do before the weekend was out. Although I had two more wet nights, I returned to work on Monday feeling better… for about ten minutes. That's how long it took for my boss to start in on me. He actually had the gall to berate me for taking the week off, time I had earned. That was the last straw. I spent my lunch hour writing up a formal complaint and delivering it to Human Resources. I told them, if they didn't do something about him, they could have my notice, and if they didn't want that, I'd take the sick and vacation pay I had coming, and they could have their job. The rest of the afternoon was a flurry of meetings and discussions about me and my boss. Some of them got pretty heated. A review of my work showed that I was doing my job and doing it well. In the end, though, I was low man on the totem pole, and it was decided we would all be better off, if I applied my skills elsewhere. I was given a letter of recommendation and promised my back pay would be mailed at the next payroll date. For someone who, for all practical purposes, just got canned, I felt great when I cleaned out my desk. Kathy got concerned when she came home and saw the box with my possessions by the door. "What happened?" "I got fired," I said brightly. "Well, 'mutual separation' is what they wrote down in the file." I gave her a blow by blow description of what happened that day with full color commentary. I may have embellished my part a little. "Dave, I'm so proud of you. You did the right thing. I just wish that son of a bitch got what was coming to him." "Not my problem anymore. His file is flagged. He'll get his someday. In the meantime, and for the foreseeable future, you have yourself a little housemaid." "Don't give me ideas. You might look good in a French maid's uniform. I'm just glad you are out of there. Let's go. I'm taking you out to dinner." "Shouldn't we be watching our pennies? I am out of a job now." "We will, but tonight, we celebrate. This is a new beginning." And we did, a great meal, some nice wine, and it didn't end there. We practically ran up to the bedroom, clothes flying as we went. It was the most passionate we had been in quite a while. Afterward, Kathy got me diapered and curled up next to me. "So, what are you going to do with yourself, now that you have all this time on your hands?" "I don't know. I haven't really had a chance to think about it." "You should, you know. Idle hands and all that." "I'm sure I'll think of something." "I hope so. Little boys left on their own can get into all sorts of mischief." She was rubbing the front of my diaper. "I'll be fine." "I hope so. We wouldn't want Mommy to have to spank, would we?" I chuckled. "Would we?" The question wasn't rhetorical. "No." "No, what?" "No… Mommy?" "That's right," she said, rubbing me harder. "You need to be a good boy for Mommy, or Mommy will spank." I moaned, getting my second wind. "Maybe I should get a babysitter to keep you out of trouble. Maybe Auntie Sharon would be available. She could make sure you're a good boy and change you when you are wet. I know you like that. But Auntie Sharon spanks hard; so, you'd better be good." That was it. The diaper came off for round two. I was barely awake when Kathy re-diapered me and kissed me goodnight. The first week as a stay at home husband was great. I cooked, which I enjoyed but never had time for. I did some minor repairs that I had been putting off for a while. I cleaned the house and did the grocery shopping. I didn't enjoy those so much, but they had to be done and weren't as bad as I imagined. Most of all, Kathy was really happy with me and lavished me with praise. The second week was not as good. It was harder to find things to do. Kathy noticed and brought my attention to some things that needed taking care of. By the third week, I was really starting to get bored. Kathy and I were doing some gardening that weekend, when Mrs. Travers, our neighbor across the street, a sweet older lady, came over. I never talked to her much, but she and Kathy were friends. She took Kathy aside, but I couldn't help overhearing their conversation. "I noticed David's been home a lot lately. Is everything alright." "Oh, yes. He's taking some time off, maybe thinking of a second career." "I was just concerned, the economy being the way it is and everything." "No need to worry. We're fine." "Well, if there is anything you need…" "Same here. I'm sure Dave would be happy to help you out, if you need anything." "Well, there are a few odd jobs I need done. I'd pay him, of course." "Nonsense. What are neighbors for? Dave, come here a minute." "Oh, that's all right." "Dave, Travers needs your help. You'll do that, won't you?" "Sure." "What is it you need, Mavis?" "Well, I have a leaky faucet, and the gutters need tending." "No trouble at all Mrs. Travers," I said. "Is tomorrow okay?" "That would be fine, dear, if it's not too much trouble." "No trouble at all. Ten o'clock?" "That sounds fine. Thank you so much." "It's settled then," Kathy said sealing the deal. "He'll be over at ten sharp. You remember to be a good boy for Mrs. Travers, Dave." Mrs. Travers thanked us again but gave us awkward look as she went back to her house. "You didn't need to say that." "I was just having some fun. Can't you take a joke?" I kissed Kathy goodbye the next morning, and she reminded me to be a good boy and be at Mrs. Travers' house at ten. I was there right on time, toolbox and ladder in hand. I decided to start with the gutters, before the day got too hot. They were worse than I imagined, and it took till past noon to get them cleared out. Mrs. Travers insisted on feeding my lunch. The leaky faucet turned out to be a nightmare. It was an old fixture in the guest bath. I don't think anyone had worked on it since before I was born. There was a slow but steady drip that, judging by the calcium deposits on the fixture, had been going on for a long time. It was a chore just turning the shutoff valve and getting the handle off the valve, but when I tried to take out the stem to change the washer, the whole thing snapped. I informed Mrs. Travers and told her I would buy her new hardware. After a bit of an argument, I accepted that she would pay, I insisted on doing the installation. We went to the hardware store together, so she could pick out what she wanted. On the ride she told me all about her children and grandchildren, including the fact that the middle one was still wetting the bed. I set to work on updating the sink. I soon wished that I hadn't offered my assistance. Every nut was frozen. Nothing was easy to reach. The room was so tiny, I couldn't even lie down comfortably to work. As is so often the case with plumbing, I was swearing at it under my breath. Then the wrench slipped. I hit my hand hard against a pipe. I sat up to grab it and bashed my head on the sink. I was loudly cursing a blue streak when Mrs. Travers came to check on me. I was seeing stars and didn't resist when she helped me up. She led me to the kitchen and fixed an icepack for my head. She tended to my wounded hand, applying a Scooby-Doo Band-Aid. "Sorry, dear, that's all I have. I keep them for the grandkids." The room was still spinning when Kathy came over to check on me. I had no idea it had gotten so late. She gasped when she saw me. "It's just a bump on the head, dear, but I think you'd better take him home. He's had a rough day. I'll just call a plumber to finish." "No. I can do it myself." "David, be quiet. Mavis, I'm sorry he was so much trouble for you." "Oh, no trouble. I've tended to more than one skinned knee and bruised ego. But such language!" "David, apologize to Mrs. Travers, right now." "Sorry." "I'm sorry, Mavis. It won't happen again. But please, don't waste your money on a plumber. David will come back tomorrow and finish the job." She turned to me. "And he will watch his language, won't you?" "Yes, ma'am." I meant that for Mrs. Travers, but I don't think either of them took it that way. "Good. I'm sorry. He is usually much better behaved. Please let him come back." "Alright," she said reluctantly. "If it means that much to him. But it's no trouble to get a plumber." "I won't hear of it. David will be back first thing in the morning to finish what he started, and he'll be on his best behavior. If he's not, please tell me. Now, I'd better get him home and put him to bed." I handed back the icepack and stood to leave. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Travers, and thank you for lunch." "It's alright, dear. Get some rest, and you'll feel better in the morning." Kathy took care of the goodbyes, and Mrs. Travers walked us to the door. I hoped she wasn't watching as Kathy gave me an earful crossing the street and landed a couple of hard swats on the seat of my pants. She took me straight upstairs. She got a diaper out and set it on the bed. She got her hairbrush and put it on top. She started undressing me and gave me a real dressing down. "I'm ashamed of you, talking that way in front of a sweet old lady. What were you thinking?" "I'm sorry. I hit my head, and it really hurt." "That's no excuse. You should know better. I have a good mind to wash your mouth out with soap." "You can't do that!" "Try me. If I ever hear something like that again, that's just what I'll do. As for right now, you're getting a good spanking to help you remember." "What? You can't." "You know very well I can. And unless you want me to use your belt on you, you'll get across my lap right now." I remembered the bite of the belt and chose to follow her instructions. She didn't start easy, and she accompanied her task with nonstop scolding. But that was nothing compared to when she started in with the brush. I wouldn't have been surprised if Mrs. Travers heard my cries from across the street. When I was bawling, Kathy told me to get up and marched me to the corner. "You stay there and think about what you did." I kept my face wedged in the corner, not wanting to incur any more of her wrath. I could hear her milling about the room, muttering. Then there was silence. "David, why is your underwear wet?" "What!" "You heard me. Why is your underwear wet?" "What? I didn't." She turned me around and held them where I could see. They were clearly damp. "Did you or did you not wet your pants?" "I don't know." "Of course, you know! Look at these!" "I guess, maybe a little. I don't remember. Maybe when I hit my head?" "That's no excuse. You can't go around wetting your pants during the day. It's bad enough you do that at night." "You said you didn't mind." "You know what I mean. But daytime accidents are a different story. Do you need to be in diapers all the time? Do I need to hire a babysitter? Maybe Mrs. Travers would like the job." "I'm sorry," I cried. "It won't happen again." "It had better not, or I'll have to rethink leaving you home alone. Lie down. You're going to bed right now." "I have to go to the bathroom." "Then go. At least, you remember some of your potty training." I lay in bed thinking about what Kathy said. She wouldn't make me wear diapers in the daytime. It was just that I hit my head. But she did it before. That didn't work out well. Seriously, she couldn't really get a babysitter. I didn't know what to think. Between conking myself and what followed, I was exhausted and didn't last long. I had strange and fitful dreams. I was soaked the next morning. Kathy was laying out clothes when I came back from the shower. "Put these on." She handed me something I didn't recognize. "What are these?" "Training pants." I turned the puffy object over in my hands. "I'm not wearing those." "Yes, you are, unless you'd prefer to wear a diaper. Of course, you'll have to bring a spare, incase Mrs. Travers needs to change you." "You wouldn't." "Would you like to discuss it with Mr. Hairbrush?" "No." "Then get dressed. You have work to do." The disposable underwear wasn't as thick or noisy as a diaper, but I still felt very conspicuous. I was feeling very contrite when Kathy rang Mrs. Travers' doorbell. "Good morning, Mavis. I brought David over to finish his work. He's going to be on his best behavior today and not give you any more trouble. If he does, I'd appreciate it if you told me. And if he needs it, you have my permission to spank him." "I'm sure that won't be necessary, dear," she said with a nervous laugh, no doubt hoping that was a joke. I knew it wasn't and blushed hotly. "Be a good boy, David. I'll see you tonight. And no swearing." It took me all day and another trip to the hardware store for new shutoff valves, but I finally got the sink done. I even managed to keep from swearing out loud. I did end up quietly crying at one point from holding it in. When it was all done, I was quite proud of myself, and Mrs. Travers was pleased. I was finishing the snack she made me, when Kathy came to take me home. "How was he today, Mavis?" "Good as gold, dear. Good as gold. I don't know what you said to him, but it did the trick. And such a good job he did. The new faucets are just beautiful." "I'm so glad to hear that. David, say thank you to Mrs. Travers." "Thank you," I mumbled, my mouth filled with cookie. "David, don't talk with your mouth full." "It's alright, dear. He deserves his reward. If I could borrow him again, I might have some other jobs for him to do?" "Anytime, Mavis. Anytime. I'm happy to have him here where somebody can keep an eye on him. But now I think it's time I get him home and fed, unless he's spoiled his appetite with your cookies." "I only had two," I complained. I saw Mrs. Travers hold up three fingers. "Well, we'll see if we can get some real food in him anyway. David, finish your milk; it's time to go." I downed the half full glass and wiped my mouth with my sleeve. I thanked Mrs. Travers for the cookies, and we headed home. Kathy told me she was proud of me for being a good boy. That made me feel good. But, she warned me, she expected no more bad behavior reports. She wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me passionately. Then she stuck her hands down the front of my pants. "Just checking. Seems a little damp down there. Drop 'em." "I didn't. I swear." "You'd better not swear. Now, let's see those training pants." She unbuckled my belt and dropped my pants to my feet. She pulled the disposable underwear—I preferred the euphemism—inside out and down where she could get a good look. "Hmm. Definitely a little damp, but maybe it's just sweat. You could do a better job wiping though." She pulled them back up and went to make dinner. I was left standing with my pants at my ankles, wondering what just happened. The evening was business as usual. At bedtime, she said her little boy deserved a reward for being so good all day. I got it too, and how. Kathy had another pair of training pants out the next day. "Why do I have to wear these? I stayed dry yesterday." "I think you know why." "No, why?" "Because Mommy says so." She wrapped her arms around me and gave my bottom a squeeze. "And little boys who do what Mommy says get rewarded." She gave me a smack. "And you know what happens to little boys who don't." I quickly put on the paper pants. "Good boy. Get dressed. Mommy has to go to work." I tidied up around the house and puttered in the garden a little. I couldn't help but think about the night before and what Kathy implied that morning. I went to the store and bought a roast, hoping a nice dinner would earn me another of her rewards. With dinner in the oven, I was at a loss for what to do. I sat down to watch some TV and was soon asleep, dreaming of "Mommy." "Oh, David!" I sat straight up. "Get up, quick." I stood up, and that's when I felt it. The training pants were leaking. "Go change. I'll take care of this." I could hear the disappointment and frustration in her voice. I came back to find her laying towel over the cushion. I told her I was sorry. "It wasn't too bad. I think I got it in time. Let's just eat. It smells wonderful." It was good, if I do say so myself. Kathy's praise for it was effusive. Then she turned serious. "David, what we going to do? I know you can't help your bedwetting, and that's alright. It really is, and we're dealing with it. But what are we going to do about this wetting in the daytime? It's obvious the training pants aren't up to the job." "I'm sorry. I wasn't even planning on going to sleep." "That's my point. If you're going to drop off like that, you could end up ruining the furniture." "I'll just stay awake. That's all." "You didn't today." "But now, I know I have to." "David, I don't want to deprive you of your sleep. If you need a nap, you should be able to take one." "I could put a diaper on myself," I suggested. "Yes, I do think we need to teach you to do that. But that's only going to help if you know you are going to sleep. What about days like today, when you just drop off?" "I don't know." "I think there's only solution that's really practical." I didn't like the sound of that. "You're just going to have to have a nap every day. That way, you won't just be nodding off unprotected." "But I don't need a nap every day." "I'm sorry, but I don't see any way around it. Unless you prefer I get a sitter who can make sure you stay awake or gets you diapered?" "No, I don't want that." "Then you'll just have to start taking naps. Do the dishes, and we'll see if we can teach you how to put on a diaper by yourself. And use the potty. We don't need any accidents in the middle of the lesson." That was it; the discussion was closed. I met her upstairs when the dishes were done. She had several diapers stacked up on the bed. "Why so many?" "It might take you a few tries to get it on right, and the tapes on these don't take repositioning well. If you mess up, we'll have to start from scratch. Here, let me help you get undressed." She kissed me while she unbuttoned my shirt. I thought we'd get to the instructions part later, and it showed. No such luck. "Okay. The first thing is to unfold the diaper and lay it out like this." "I could have guessed that." "Don't get smart; just listen. Now you lie down on top. You know how to do that already. Well, go on; I can't very well teach you this while you're standing up. Good. Now, lift your bottom and take the bottom two tapes. That's it. Now, move the diaper so the tapes are at the bend in your hips. No, a little higher. Let me feel. That's it. Good boy. Put your bottom down. Now, pull the front up and put the tapes on, snug as you can without stretching anything. Don't let the diaper move, or you'll have to start again. No, no, don't pull the front over so far; keep it centered. That's it. Good job. Now, tuck in all of the side flaps. That's right; we don't want those sticking out. Now, we do the top tapes, nice and snug. Very good! Stand up and let me check you. My goodness, you did so good, and on your first try! We'll just tuck these parts under to make sure nothing gets out. There, all ready for bed." I don't know what the all the fuss was about. It's not like it was brain surgery. Still, she managed to make me feel proud of myself. I reached to undo the tapes. "What are you doing?" she asked. "I'm taking it off." "Why? It's on there so nice." "It's early, and I'm not sleepy." "Well, there's no sense in wasting it. If you take it off, we'll just have to throw it away. Just leave it on. Mommy will make it worthwhile," she teased. "Really?" I said hopefully. "Uh huh," she said, unbuttoning her blouse. "Okay." She knew what I liked. She didn't often let me spend much time with her titties, but that night, she let me suck and play with them to my heart's content. Meanwhile, she pleasured herself. "Oh, baby!" she cried out after her third orgasm. "You make Mommy feel so good." She brought my face to hers and kissed me deeply. I was looking forward to the main event. "We'll have to let you nurse more often. That was fantastic. Are you ready to go night-night, or do you want to watch some television?" "Aren't we going to… you know?" "Baby, what did I say about wasting diapers? That's not coming off until morning, unless you need a change before. So, what's if going to be, bed or TV?" I would have wet myself if I could have, but the state she had me in prevented it. "TV, I guess," I said with a pout. "Aw, don't be that way. If you're a good boy, maybe Mommy will let you nurse some more before bed." That cheered me a little. We put on our nightclothes and went downstairs. Even though Kathy picked out a movie that would appeal more to me than to her, I was still a bit sullen. Kathy noticed. "What's the matter, sweetie? Do you still want Mommy's titty? Come here, baby." She had me lie down with my shoulders in her lap. She supported my head with her arm, braced by the arm of the sofa. She pushed her nightgown out of the way. "Be gentle. Mommy's still tender from before." It wasn't what I really wanted, but it was still nice. I had seen the movie several times before. I could see it in my head just from the dialogue. Kathy was idly rubbing my chest and belly. It was very relaxing. I felt a twinge in my bladder and figured, what the heck? It wasn't like she was going to let me go to the bathroom anyway. It took some effort, but I did manage to overcome my resistance and let the liquid flow. Kathy must have noticed a change in me. She stuck her had inside my pajama pants and squeezed my diaper. "Good boy," she murmured, and she continued to rub down there. I was actually getting turned on. I was starting to squirm, trying to get a little more pressure on the front to the diaper. My suckling became more passionate, and I reached up to play with the other breast. I felt a slap on my padded behind. "Mommy said 'gentle.' If you can't be nice, I'm going to put you to bed." That brought about a definite pout from me. "Don't be like that; you were told. Let's get you turned around and you can have the other side for a while, but be nice." "Okay," I sighed. "What was that?" Yes… Mommy." "That's better. You just nurse nicely while we finish the movie. Then Mommy will get you tucked in." I was more on my side this time, and Kathy rubbed my back and bottom. I think I must have drifted off, because Kathy was telling me it was time for bed. I got my bearings and sat up. I didn't think I had been that wet when we switched breasts. Kathy took my hand and led me upstairs. She took off my pajama pants and said she was right; I would need a change before bed. She laid me down and untaped the used but not soggy garment. I asked to use the bathroom. "Really? I wouldn't think you had any more in you right now." "For… the other." "Oh, yes, of course. Go make poopies, and then we'll get you set for night-night." She patted my naked bottom as I went. She didn't really have to put it that way, I thought. I wasn't gone long, but she had a new diaper laid out, as well as some powder. "What's that for?" I asked, pointing at the powder. "It will make you more comfortable, and it will make you smell nice." "It'll make me smell like a baby." "Exactly, is there anything that smells better than a freshly changed baby? Besides, at the moment, you are acting like one. You may as well smell the part." "You know I can't help it. It's the stress. And those pills make me so sleepy, I don't know…" "That's not what I meant. You've been cranky and moody all night. Lie down, so Mommy can get your dipee on." I lay down, but not without telling her I didn't appreciate the baby talk. "You liked it well enough when we were playing here a while ago." She took a wet wipe and ran it up my butt crack. "And if this is the kind of job you do wiping yourself, maybe you are one. Does Mommy have to help you when you make a stinky in the potty?" "Kathy!" I complained. "Okay, okay, I'm kidding… for now, but make sure you do a better job in the future. If I'm going to have to clean your poopy bottom anyway, I may as well keep you in diapers full time." I gasped. "Relax. I didn't say I was going to do it…. I just haven't ruled out the possibility," she said with a grin that was either playful or threatening. I couldn't tell which. She powdered me nicely, but I was disappointed that she stopped when I started to stir. She finished the rest of the process efficiently and soon had me tucked in. She got in beside me and had me face her. "Unless we run into some problems, here are the rules from now on. I want you to lie down every afternoon around one o'clock. A little bit earlier, a little bit later, doesn't matter, as long as it's not past two. Whatever you might be planning that would take longer than that can wait until after you rest. I want you in a diaper when you lie down. You showed me you can do it yourself, and I feel better knowing you are protected. If you wet while you are napping, go ahead and put your pull-ups back on. If you don't, I want you to keep the diaper on until you use it; that way it's not wasted, and I know you aren't cheating. If you don't sleep at naptime, I want you in a diaper until I get home. I can't have you falling asleep without one on. If you have to change once or twice before I get back, that's okay, but no wasting. If I find you aren't taking your naps or you are running around without a diaper when you should have one on, Mommy will spank, understand?" I nodded, wide eyed. For some reason, I was getting aroused. "Say, 'yes, Mommy.'" "Yes, Mommy." "Good boy. And remember, good boys who do what Mommy says get rewards." She kissed me. "Night-night, baby." "Night-night, Mommy," I yawned. I started to plan out my day for tomorrow, but I was off to dreamland. I had finished mowing the lawn, and working on pulling some weeds, when I heard a car pull into the driveway. I wasn't pulling weeds anymore. I was pushing trucks around a sandbox. "Mommy!" I yelled. "There's my little man," Kathy beamed. But her face turned cold. "Davey, just look at you." I looked down. My hands were filthy, and there was sand stuck to the wet front of my little shorts. I looked up surprised. "David, did you take your nap today?" "I wasn't sleepy." "Where's your diaper?" "I forgot," I said sheepishly. "You forgot? What was the last thing I said to you before I left?" "Um…" "I said I wanted you to go down for a nap at one o'clock and to make sure you put your diaper on." "I didn't know it was so late." "Is that so? Did you not know you need to go potty either? "I…" "Davey, I'm very disappointed in you. Get in the house this instant." I ran in the house and was almost through the kitchen. "Stop right there, mister. Take off those filthy clothes. You're not going track sand all through the house." I didn't want to. Getting undressed in the kitchen meant I would have to walk right past the picture window to get upstairs. "But…" "No buts," she said, striding over and pulling my shirt right over my head. She made quick work of my sandals and shorts and left me standing in a drooping pull-up. She shook her head and started pulling it down. She gasped when she saw a small, firm poop inside. She got it off me and balled it up "David, you naughty, naughty boy. Get upstairs right now. You need a bath." She turned me around and planted a stinging slap on my damp bottom. I ran up the stairs, no longer caring if I was seen. Kathy was not far behind. "Sit on the potty and try to go poopy." She started the bath and added some sweet-smelling bubbles. "Honestly, I thought you were a big boy. I thought I could trust you. Did you go?" I shook my head. I was getting teary, because she was mad at me. "Get in the tub. This discussion isn't over, but you're just too filthy to deal with at the moment." I jumped in the tub, hoping compliance would earn me a few points. She scrubbed me from head to toe. "I have no idea how one little boy can get so dirty? How did you get sand in there?" I didn't know either, and I felt bad I was making work for her. She was hardly gentle, and I was glad when she finished. She dried me just as roughly, then ordered me into the bedroom. "What have you got to say for yourself?" she demanded. "I'm sorry." "I'm sorry is not an excuse. Did you deliberately disobey me, or are you too much of a baby to leave on your own? I think I'm going to have to have Mrs. Travers come over and watch you during the day." "I don't need a babysitter," I whined. "I'm a big boy." "Then you are a naughty, disobedient boy, and I know just how to deal with that," she said, snatching up her hairbrush and hauling down across her lap. "I told you what would happen, if you didn't listen to Mommy. You have no one to blame but yourself." "Mommy, no!" My bottom was quickly ablaze. I was screaming out apologies and promising to be good. I was bawling my eyes out and shaking. No, I wasn't shaking. I was being shaken. "David, David, Wake up." I shouted something incoherent. I looked around. It was dark. I saw Kathy. I threw my arms around her. "I'm sorry, Mommy. I'm sorry! I won't wet my pants again. I'll take my nap. I'll wear my diapers. Don't spank me. I'm sorry!" I sobbed and sobbed. Mommy… Kathy held and shushed me. "There, there, baby, it's all over now. It was just a bad dream. Mommy loves you. You're Mommy's good boy; yes, you are. Let's get you changed, so we can go back to sleep." I was soaked, but Kathy took care of it like it was nothing. She made such short work of it; I didn't even become fully conscious. I just followed her instructions, lifting up when she asked, and I was soon dry and nuzzling her. "No, baby. Mommy's sore. Try to go back to sleep. Mommy will see about buying you a baba and a binky tomorrow." That thought didn't register enough to consciously think about it, but it did sink in enough that I dreamt of nursing from a giant bottle. My thumb was wrinkled when I woke up. The night must have been harder on me than I realized. I had no trouble putting on a diaper and taking a nap the next day or the day after. Kathy made me show her the used diapers when she saw I was wearing pull-ups. She praised me for being a good boy. The day after that, try as I might, I just couldn't fall asleep. I went ahead and wet the diaper, so I could show Kathy I hadn't wasted it, but then I put on a pull-up and went about the rest of my afternoon. We sat down to watch TV after dinner. I was nodding off before the first commercial. "David?" "Hmm?" I asked groggily. "David, did you have a nap today?" "Mm-mm," I acknowledged. "Is that a no?" I nodded. "Then where's your diaper?" "Used it." "I know that, but why don't you have one on now?" "Don' need one." "That's not the rule, and you know it. Get up. You're going to bed right now." "Wanna stay up with you." "Nothing doing. You get upstairs right now, unless you want to go to bed with a sore bottom." That woke me up. "But it's early," I whined. "David, I'm warning you for the last time." "Okay, I'm going," I huffed and all but stomped out of the room. "And use the potty. I'll be up in a minute to put your diaper on." I did as I was told; I did have to go. Kathy came in and laid out a diaper while I was getting undressed. Before I knew it, she had me squared away and tucked in. Seemingly out of nowhere, she stuck bottle in my mouth. "Leave that there. I bought it as a joke, but maybe it's appropriate after all. You know the rules, David. It was very naughty of you to break them. I feel like you lied to me. I'm very disappointed in you." That stirred up memories of my nightmare. "We will talk about this in the morning. In the meantime, drink your baba and go to sleep. I expect it to be empty when I come to bed. I'm very upset with you right now." I was upset too, as much with myself as being made to drink from a baby's bottle. Still, I was tired and didn't last long. I woke up briefly to find the bottle being replaced in my mouth and held there. The next thing I remember was Kathy's waking me to get changed and "have a talk." I came back from the bathroom to time a diaper waiting on the bed. Kathy was sitting next to it, hairbrush in hand. I immediately protested. "I get it. I'm sorry. If I don't take a nap, I'll wear a diaper till you say so. You don't have to do this." "You'll get it alright. And I do have to do this, because it seems the only time you listen to me is when you're face down over my lap. Get over here now." I reluctantly went and climbed into position. She didn't waste any time in starting to warm my seat. "You deliberately disobeyed me, and then you pretended like you took a nap. You thought you were real smart, didn't you? Thought you could fool me into thinking you took a nap, didn't you? What do you think would have happened if you fell asleep before I got home? I'll tell you what would have happened; you would have wet your pants and made a royal mess, that's what. You are a naughty, naughty, little boy. Lying to Mommy, Mommy is so angry with you. Are you going to make me have to hire a sitter for you? Is that what I have to do, because Mommy's little boy can't be trusted?" "No! Please, don't! I'll be good. I promise!" She stopped spanking. "Alright, fine, I'll give you one more chance. Get up, and let's get your diaper on. You are in diapers all day, and I do mean all day. I'm going to call you from time to time, and you had better be wearing your diaper, because you are going to send me a picture to prove it, and if you aren't wearing one, or it takes longer than I think it should for you to send it, you won't sit down for a week, and I will find you that sitter. Do I make myself clear?" "Yes." "Excuse me?" "Yes, Mommy. Yes." "Good. Now, get your nose in that corner." She left for a few minutes. "I set up your computer with the webcam on, and I set an alarm. Don't you dare move until the alarm goes off. I may not be able to watch you all the time, but you won't know when I do. So, you'd better be on your best behavior and do exactly as Mommy says, understood?" "Yes, Mommy," I said dejectedly. "I do love you, baby, but you have to be a good boy and do what Mommy says, okay?" "Okay." "That's my good boy." She kissed and hugged me. "Okay, nose back in the corner, and don't move till the alarm goes off. Remember; Mommy's watching." She turned me around and patted my behind. I was left with my thoughts. I hoped not for too long. That hope didn't last. With no frame of reference but my own world, which was defined by the two walls I got to stare at, the seconds ticked slowly. I got to dwell on why I was standing there. Because Mommy, I mean Kathy, was mean. No, she wasn't; I did this to myself. Why couldn't I have handled things better? I could have stood up to my boss. I could have gone to HR sooner. I could have quit. Why didn't I? Because I was afraid. What good would that have done? I'd have just been out of a job sooner. Why did I have to start that again? And why wasn't it stopping. I got rid of the stress. I quit. But I still couldn't keep dry. It's no wonder Kathy treated me like a baby. Why did she do that? Why wouldn't she, when I was in diapers every night. Some Man. But it was kind of nice. It felt good to be snuggled. It felt really good to be suckled. She was actually being really nice… when she wasn't spanking me. Why did she have to do that? And why didn't I stop her? What was I supposed to do, hit her back? I couldn't do that. And it's not like I didn't bring them on myself. I didn't listen. Why should I have to listen? I'm a grown man. But I was acting like a little boy. A little boy who can't keep his pants dry. And so, it went on until the alarm chimed. Less than a minute later, Kathy called. "You stayed in the corner the whole time. Good boy. I knew you could listen when you wanted to. The webcam is still on. Show me your diaper." I positioned myself and the camera so she could look. "Still dry. Good. I have to get back to work now. I'll call and check on you a little later. Be a good boy for Mommy, and get your chores done. I'll talk to you before naptime. I love you, sweetie. Bye-bye." She hung up before could get a word in. There was nothing for it but to get on with my day. I wasn't very hungry, but coffee was welcome. I puttered around, taking care of what I had to, making the bed, doing the laundry and dishes. I wet myself a little; there didn't seem any point in holding it. Kathy called around eleven. "Hi, baby. How's your day going? Are you being a good boy?" "Yes, Mommy. I'm almost done with my chores." "That's my good baby. Speaking of which. Send me a picture of your diaper." I snapped a pic and sent it to her. "Just a little wet. You'll be fine till nap time. Mommy needs to get back to work. I want you to find some more things to do around the house. You're still on punishment; so, no TV or computer till Mommy says so. But make sure the webcam is facing the bed. I may want to check in on you during your nap. Be a good boy. I love you, baby. I'll talk to you later." Now facing a day of boredom, I looked for things to do. I vacuumed the carpets and washed the floors. That kept me busy until lunchtime. I had a sandwich and a soda. By that time, I was looking forward to a change. When the phone rang, I thought it was Kathy. "Hi, Mom…" "David, it's Mrs. Travers across the street. Could you come help me, please?" "I'd be happy to Mrs. Travers, but right now isn't a very good time. May later this afternoon?" It was getting close to one o'clock, and Kathy was going to want me in bed. "I'm sorry, David. It really can't wait. The toilet is backing up, and I can't stop it. Please help." She sounded desperate. I was torn over what to do. "David, are you there?" "Yes," I said stupidly, coming out of my head. "Yes, Mrs. Travers. Let me just grab some tools, and I'll be right over." "Thank you, David. You're a lifesaver." The first order of business was to call Kathy. I needed to tell her what was going on. Her cell went straight to voicemail. I didn't want to just leave a message; so, I called her office. "Ms. Henderson's office. May I help you?" "Hi, Mandy. It's David." "Oh, hi, David. I hear you're taking some time off. That must be so great. I wish I could do that." "Mandy," I broke in. "I need to speak to Kathy. Could you put me through please?" "I'm sorry I can't. She's in a meeting, and she said no interruptions, unless it's life and death. It's not, is it?" "No… um… just have her call me, will you?" "Sure thing. Is everything alright?" "Um… fine. You have her call. Thanks." I put on my baggiest sweats and hoped they'd hide what was under them. I threw my snake, a plunger, some wrenches, and a couple of kinds of pliers in a duffle and headed across the street to Mrs. Travers. "David, hurry, hurry. It's getting worse!" I followed the sound of running water until I saw it. How did she let it get this far? The bathroom was flooded, and it was flowing out into the hallway. I stuck my phone in a pocket of the duffel and set the bag down in a spot near the door that was still dry. "Get me all the towels you can. Clean, dirty, doesn't matter. Quick!" She brought me a couple of kitchen towels. "No, bath towels. The bigger the better. And as many as you can carry." This time, she understood. I tossed them around the room, and they were saturated as soon as they hit the floor. "Have you got more?" She nodded. "Get them. All of them." I squatted beside the toilet and tried to turn the shutoff valve. Nothing. I grabbed a pair of channel locks from my bag and tried to muscle the knob again. Before the valve finally budged, I was afraid the strain would make me poop my pants. I did pee them a little. Thank heaven that didn't happen. I was making some headway, when my phone rang. I had to get the water off; so, I ignored it. Was it really necessary to put so many threads on these stupid valves? The phone rang again. Again, I ignored it. I could hear the flow slowing. I was getting close. Like the sink, this valve was long unused and heavily corroded. I wasn't sure I was going to be able to turn that last little bit without breaking it off. The phone was ringing again. "Mrs. Travers! Could you answer my phone for me? I kind of have my hands full." I could see her looking at it like it was a snake in her hand. "Just slide your finger up the screen. That's it. And hit the button that says 'Answer.'" "David, where the hell are you," I could hear Kathy's voice all the way across the room. "You're not in your bed, and I've been calling and calling. What is going…" "Kathy, dear." Mrs. Travers found her voice and near shouted. "It's Mavis. David can't talk right now…. No, he's fine. It's my toilet. It was flooding the house. David was a godsend, coming over to fix it…. Is he what? Well, yes, he is. There was quite a lot of water on the floor…. Oh…. Oh my…" I didn't hear any more. Mrs. Travers had wandered down the hall. I still needed to get the water shut down. The valve finally did close, and I shouted for Mrs. Travers to let her know. Nothing. I threw the soggy towels into the bathtub and used the last couple of dry ones to make a relatively dry spot to work. I took the lid off the tank to see why it was running like that. The arm on the old ball float had corroded right off. Always when there's a clog, I thought to myself. I got my snake to start working on the clog. It didn't go very far. It hit an obstruction almost immediately. Whatever it was, it was hard. I pulled the snake out, and a fair amount of toilet paper came with it. I went back it and hit the object again. I tried to dislodge it with the snake, but it wouldn't move forward, and I couldn't get the spring to snag it. There was nothing for it but to do it manually. I pushed up my sleeve, knelt down, and plunged my hand into the cold water. I tried really hard not to think about where my hand was or what it might find. I pulled out more toilet paper and gagged a little. In again, I felt the object. There was more paper around it, but I able to get my fingers around it. It was wedge in pretty tight, but it broke free, and the water in the bowl quickly went down. I swished off the paper and found a toy car. "I found the problem," I shouted. No reply. Where did she go? "Mrs. Travers?" I yelled. "I'm going to have to go to the hardware store. You need a new float valve." "You got it fixed. Thank heaven." I must have jumped a foot. I wasn't expecting her to be right there. "Almost," I said, trying to get my heart back where it belonged. "I'm going to need some parts." "Dear, oh dear, look at you. You're soaked to the skin. Come with me. I have some dry things you can change into." "That's okay. I can just run home." "Nonsense. You'll catch your death. Come." She grabbed my hand and pulled me to the bedroom. I stopped short, when I got to the door. There, on the bed were some my clothes, and sitting right on top was a diaper. I almost didn't hear Mrs. Travers speaking. "Kathy told me about your little problem, dear. I'm so sorry. And I'm sorry about taking you away from your nap. How about we get you into something dry? Then you can have a snack and a little lie down before you go to the store." Before I knew it, Mrs. Travers pulled my sweats to my feet. "Mrs. Travers!" I shouted. "My, you are soaked to the skin, aren't you? Don't worry. We'll have you fixed up in a jiffy." She was guiding me toward the bed and pushing me down. "What's that you have in your hand? Oh, Matthew, that boy! You can keep that, if you want, Davey. Matthew won't be getting it back. But let's give it a wash first. We know where it's been." She gingerly took the car and set it aside. Then she reached for the tapes on my diaper. "Mrs. Travers, no! I mean, I can do this myself." "No need to fret, dear. Mr. Travers had the same problem toward the end. I'm an old hand at this." "But…" "It's the least I can do, dear. And I told Kathy I'd take good care of you this afternoon. Just lie still, and we'll have you nice and dry in no time." I tried to squirm and push her hands away. She slapped mine. "We'll have none of that nonsense. Kathy gave me permission to spank you the last time you were here. Don't make me have to do it." I looked at her wide-eyed. She gave me a look that said not to tempt her. I closed my eyes and tried to pretend I was someplace, anyplace else. That didn't work very well, since I had to lift while she got everything adjusted. She did make short work of it after that, and she was pulling my shoes, socks and sweats off my feet. I sat there dumbfounded, as she changed my shirt, put socks on my feet and had me step into my pants. "There," she said, satisfied, "all dry. Come on down to the kitchen. You can have some cookies and a nice glass of milk." She thanked me profusely while I ate. She made very good cookies. I reached for another. "Uh-uh," he said, as she took away the plates. "What would Kathy say, if I spoiled your appetite? Finish your milk, and we'll put you down for a nice little nap." "But I need to go to the hardware…" She cut me off, wiping my face with a damp cloth. "Plenty of time for that after your nap. I promised Kathy, and there won't be any more discussion about it. Come along." She took my hand and led me to a different bedroom, one she obviously kept for the grandkids. There was a wide assortment of toys and cartoon bedding. Whether very young, a bit older, girl or boy, whoever stayed in this room would feel comfortable and loved. Mrs. Travers pulled back the covers on the twin bed and told me to get in. I reluctantly did as she asked and immediately noticed the crackle of a waterproof cover. She tucked me in and, out of habit, pulled up a side rail. She tittered realizing what she had done. "Oh, well, better safe than sorry." She kissed my forehead. "You have a nice sleep, and when you get up, maybe Nana Mavis will let you have that cookie. Sleep tight, Davey." With that she was gone. What had I gotten myself into? I wanted to talk to Kathy, but I didn't know where my phone was, and she probably arranged this anyway. How was I going to look Mrs. Travers in the face after today? And what might she tell the other neighbors? I needed to get out of this predicament. I needed to get over this stupid wetting problem and find a new job. At least I'd be away from home more. I yawned. The morning was catching up with me. A little nap wouldn't hurt, and I was kind of stuck for now anyway. "Wakey, wakey," Mrs. Travers sang cheerily. "Time to get up." "Huh?" I tried to get my bearings. Why was I in a child's room? Oh yeah. "Did you have a nice nap?" she asked, letting down the rail. She shocked me by sticking her fingers in the waistband of my diaper. "Not too wet. You should be fine till your Mommy gets home." "I need to get to the store." I needed to get out of there. "That will have to wait. I talked to Kathy, and she should be here soon. You can finish up tomorrow. How about that cookie? It will be our little secret." It turned out not to be a secret. I was biting into a second one, when Kathy came in. For some reason, I felt guilty. "How was he for you today, Mavis? I know how he can be when there's plumbing involved." "A perfect angel, Kathy. Weren't you, Davey? He's just having a little snack as a reward for coming to my rescue." "I'm glad to hear that. I just hope he hasn't spoiled his dinner. A growing boy can't live on milk and cookies." "I expect he'll be fine. I'm sure he worked up quite an appetite." "Well, we'd best be off. I'll send him over in the morning to finish up. You don't mind watching him, do you?" "Not at all dear. He's my good little helper." "Thank you, Mavis. Come on, Dave. Let's go make some supper." "Oh, Davey, don't forget your car. It's all clean now. He can have it, can't he, Kathy?" "Of course. What do you say, David?" "Thank you, Mrs. Travers." I didn't need to be reminded, for gosh sake. "You're welcome, Davey. Maybe tomorrow, we can make some cookies together?" She winked. "Yes, thank you, Mavis. We'll talk to you tomorrow." Kathy took me by the hand and led me home. "That was very nice of you, helping Mrs. Travers like that. I was so worried, when I couldn't find you." "I did call." "I know. I should have checked my messages first. That's my fault. Do you like your toy?" "What? Oh, yeah, I guess," I said, setting it down. "It was very nice of Mrs. Travers to give it to you." "I know. But can you stop talking to me like I'm a child?" "I'm just saying it was nice." "But you told me to say thank you, and you're talking about my working over there like your dropping me off at daycare." "Still a bit cranky after your nap." "I'm not cranky! And I don't need naps. I'm not a baby, damn it." "Don't take that tone with me. And no more potty mouth, unless you want it washed out. How's your diaper holding out, by the way?" "It's fine. Why did you make me wear it all day anyway? Now Mrs. Travers knows, and she'll probably tell everybody. It's not like I don't have enough problems. I don't have a job anymore, and I can't stop wetting the bed, and now everybody's gonna think I'm a big baby, just like you and Mrs. Travers do. It's not fair!" Tears were running down my face. "Why does it have to be like this?" Kathy took me in her arms, and I sobbed. It was all too much. I felt a warm wetness gather around my bottom, and I cried all the harder. "Shh. Shh. I know, baby. I know. It's all overwhelming, isn't it? It's going to be okay. I promise. I had a long talk with Mrs. Travers this afternoon. I explained the whole thing, and she understands. She just wants to help, and she won't tell a soul; I promise. I don't want you to worry about a thing. I know you're not a baby. But you've been through a lot lately, and I want to take care of you. I want you to let all the hurt go. I think that bully of a boss did more damage than you realize. And trying to put up a brave front and hide what it was doing only made it worse. I think you need to let go of everything and let me handle things for a while. Can you be a big, brave boy and trust Mommy to look after you until you're better?" I nodded. "That's my little man. You just let Mommy be in charge for a while, and she'll make it all better. You just be Mommy's little helper, and don't worry about the mean people anymore. You can help Mrs. Travers too. She needs lots of help now that her husband is gone. She doesn't mind that you are having potty problems any more than Mommy does. We know that even big boys have trouble with the potty sometimes. You just do what we ask, and we'll take care of the rest. Can you do that for me, baby? Will you do that for Mommy?" "I guess." I was emotionally drained. I couldn't fight it anymore. "Promise me, baby. Promise me you'll listen to Mommy and Mrs. Travers and let us take care of you." "I promise." "I promise, what?" "I'll listen." "Listen to who, baby?" "Mommy and Nana Mavis." I sat up at hearing that name come out of my mouth. Kathy looked shocked, but her surprise quickly turned into a smile. "That's right, baby. Mommy and Nana will take good care of you. Are you hungry?" I was caught off guard by the question, but I was, in fact. I nodded. Kathy squeezed the front of my diaper. "Then let's get you fed, but first somebody needs a change." Kathy took me upstairs, then made a detour into the bathroom. When she was down to the diaper, she asked if I had made poopies that day. I hadn't. "Sit on the potty, and try to make a boom-boom for Mommy. I'll be right back." I was getting ready to wipe when she came back… naked. She turned on the shower. She took the paper from my hand and told me to stand up. "Good job! Turn around." She bent me over and wiped me. "Okay, get in the shower. You've been playing with toilet water all day and not the good kind. Mommy needs to clean you up." It was nice showering together. It had been a long time since we did that. All that soaping and scrubbing led to other things, and we had to start over. We basked in the afterglow under the water. "I'm confused. One minute, you're wiping me like I'm three years old, the next you're…" I grinned and pulled her closer. "You may need a mommy right now, but you are still my husband, and don't you forget it. I haven't. But now it's time to get the baby dressed and fed. Get out, and Mommy will dry you." I had the best night's sleep in many weeks, wet but restful. Kathy woke me lovingly, and she was laying out my clothes when I came back from the shower. "No diaper?" "Of course not, sweetie. Your punishment is over. It's back to the regular rules. You'll wear your training pants until naptime, unless you'd rather a diaper. It's okay if you do." "No, training pants are good. But what about Mrs. Travers? What if she notices a difference? How am I going to explain why I was wearing a diaper yesterday but not today?" "Don't worry, baby? Mommy already talked to Nana, and she knows all about it. That's the other reason you can go back to wearing training pants. Nana will be there to make sure you don't fall asleep without your diaper on." "Does that mean I have to go back to wearing diapers when I get finished with her bathroom?" "I expect you'll be busy with her all day. We'll just see how it goes. Okay, sweetie?" "Okay," I agreed reluctantly. "Don't pout, honey. You're going to have lots of fun with Nana. I promise." I went to my workshop and got a tubing cutter. I was going to replace that old shutoff valve as well as the float. Kathy was waiting by the door with an overnight bag. "What's that?" I asked. "Just some extra supplies, you never know." We went out, and I started to turn toward the car. "No, baby, this way. Nana will take you to the store." Mrs. Travers was waiting for us. The door opened as we approached. "Why, hello, Davey," she said, a little too brightly. "All ready to get to work?" "Yes, ma'am." "Oh, don't be so glum. You did the hard part yesterday, didn't you? You're such a good helper. You'll have it all fixed in no time, won't you?" "Yes, ma'am." "Now, now. No need to be so formal. We're good friends now, aren't we? What did we agree my name was?" I hadn't agreed to anything, but I knew what was expected. "Nana Mavis." "That's right!" she beamed. "And Nana's going to take very good care of you. And if you're a very good boy, Nana has a big surprise for you later. Won't that be fun?" I looked at Kathy, hoping she would intervene on my behalf. Instead she gave me a small nod and a look that said go along with it. "Yes, Nana." "That's my good boy. Come in. come in. Have you had breakfast yet? Nana can't have you working on an empty stomach." "I'm sorry, Mavis. I didn't have time to feed him this morning. I really am running late." "That's alright, dear. He can eat with Nana. I'm just sorry you can't join us." "Me too, but I do have to run. Here's his bag. It should have anything you might need. David, you be a good boy for Nana today, and I'll see you after work. Thank you again, Mavis." Kathy kissed both me and Nana… Mrs. Travers on the cheek and took her leave. "Well, Davey, we've got a big day ahead of us. I think that calls for pancakes. How about you?" I nodded enthusiastically. "Then have a seat. They'll be coming right up. But first, maybe you should go potty." I blushed and mumbled, "I don't have to right now." "I think you should try anyway. For Nana?" "Alright." I headed off to the sill working guest bath. "That's a good boy. Don't forget to flush and wash your hands." I don't know what Kathy told her, but Mrs. Travers was taking to her role as Nana more enthusiastically than I was comfortable with. I suppose it wasn't hurting anyone, maybe my pride a little bit. On the other hand, she was being really nice. It's not every day I get someone to make pancakes for me, and bacon from the smell of it. I made an honest effort of it, but I didn't have to go. I flushed and washed anyway. "Just in time. I have your plate all ready for you." I half expected it to be already cut up. Instead, she had poured one large and two small circles of batter, making the shape of a famous mouse. I had to smile at that. She set the plate down in front of me, tucked a napkin into my shirt, and kissed me on the forehead. "Be careful with the syrup. Use both hands." That annoyed me a little, but I bit my tongue and used both hands. I don't know if using only one would have made any difference, but the syrup did pour faster than expected, and my pancake was fairly swimming in it. "Oh, somebody has a sweet tooth," she said, setting a large glass of milk in front of me. "Eat up, there's plenty more where that came from." "May I have some coffee, Nana?" "Coffee? Are you sure? Oh, heavens, of course. But drink your milk too. It's good for you." She made excellent pancakes, light, crispy around the edges. I had seconds and bacon and thirds. I had to soak up all that syrup after all. I was stuffed. "Such a good eater," she said, astonished. "Aren't you going to have some?" "Oh, no, dear," I had something earlier. Is your tummy full? Would you like something else?" "No, thank you. I couldn't eat another bite. It was delicious." "You're welcome, sweetheart. It's nice to cook for someone again. I suppose you'll be wanting to go to the hardware store?" "After that meal, not so much. But I do need to get some things to finish fixing the toilet." "I'll go freshen up and then we can go. Do you need to use the potty?" "No, Nana," I sighed. "I'm fine." "Okay," she said uncertainly and went about her business. I poured myself another half cup of coffee. I was wondering what was taking so long, when she came back with her hair a little spruced up and a touch of light make up. "You're sure you don't want to use the potty before we go?" "Yes, Nana," I said, rolling my eyes. "Watch your tone, young man. Alright let's go." Before long, we were back, and I set right to work. I had the old shutoff replaced and the main water turned back on. The corroded float mostly out, when I wished I had used the toilet before starting. I was close to finished; so, I forged on. All parts attached and feeling tight, I opened the shutoff and promptly got sprayed in the face. I turned off the water and had another go at the loose fitting. That did it, tight as a drum. I closed the door and christened the job. I noticed that the training pants were more than a little damp. I flushed and watched all the parts work as they should. I put away my tools and wiped everything down. Proud of myself, I opened the door and shouted, "Nana! I'm done!" "Nice job, Davey! I'm so proud of you. Thank you so much. It's beautiful! Come along. I have a nice lunch and a big piece of cake with your name on it." Lunch was grilled cheese and tomato soup. Again, she stuck the napkin in my shirt. She wasn't kidding about the cake. It was a two-layer yellow cake with gobs of homemade chocolate buttercream and enormous. It was all I could do to finish it. I didn't object the big glass of milk she gave me, even though I would have preferred coffee, and I didn't really need to use two hands, as she insisted. I thanked her with all my heart and said I would be on my way. "Oh, no, David. I have something I want you to do after your nap. Come up stairs and lie down. Nana has a big surprise for you when you get up." "I really should be…" "Now, David, you've been so good all day. Don't start giving Nana trouble now. I told your Mommy I would put you down after lunch, and that's what we're going to do." She took my hand and led me back to the grandkids' room. I think she would have dragged me, if I had put up any resistance. She put the bag Kathy had brought on the bed and pulled out pajamas and a diaper. She did a double take and took something else out of the bag. She turned around and wagged Kathy's hairbrush at me. "Don't make me use this," she warned and put it back. "Let's get you changed, and you'll have a nice nap and be all rested for your surprise." She came over and started unbuttoning my shirt. I backed away. She asked if she needed to get the hairbrush. I let her undress me. If I wasn't nervous before, I certainly was when she had me down to the pull-up. She started to take it down and stopped halfway. "Oh, David, when did that happen? I told you, you should have used the potty before we went to the store. You have to tell Nana when you have to go. Oh, well, I guess that's why we have you in trainers. At least your pants stayed dry. But let's get your diaper and jammies on, so you can go beddy-bye." I was soon tucked in and sulking. "Don't be that way, sweetheart. Nana's not mad. Accidents happen. But I want you to promise me, you'll tell Nana the next time, okay?" "Okay," I sighed. "That's Nana's good boy." She pulled the blankets up under my chin and kissed me on the forehead. "Sweet dreams, Honeybunch. You have a good rest, and then Nana has something really special for you. Ni-night." She shut the door and left me to wonder what it might be. Tucked in and toasty, with a full tummy, I didn't last long. Nana jostled me awake. I knew from the shadows; I had been out for a while. "Wake up, sleepyhead. Time to get up. If you sleep any longer, your Mommy will never get you down at bedtime. Do you want to see what Nana has for you?" I nodded, curious. "Good. Let's just have a check then. Oo, I think Nana shouldn't give you so much milk before naptime. No worries, that's what it's there for." She got the bag and pulled out a diaper and a pair of training pants. She seemed to weigh her options for a moment ad put the diaper back. "We'll try these again, but you have to tell Nana when you need to use the potty, understand?" "Yes, Nana," I said, blushing. "Good boy." She got me changed and was pulling me the hand again. She had the biggest grin on her face. She took me down to the basement. I wondered what she wanted to show me. I had been down there earlier to turn off the main water line and hadn't noticed anything unusual. She turned me off to the left and opened a door. Before me lay the most elaborate train set I had ever seen outside and exhibition like the one we went to at Sharon's house. It wasn't nearly as big, of course, but still. It had everything, tracks winding all over the place, tunnels, trestles, crossing gates, people and animals. I stood there with my mouth hanging open. "Do you like it?" "Do I like it? It's beautiful!" "It was Harold's. He made it for our boys, but he could never get them interested in it. They just wanted to crash the trains. When they discovered girls, even Harold didn't play with it anymore. He never had the heart to get rid of it. I guess he always kept hope. It's been sitting down here all these years." "That's terrible. Something like this should be loved." "It was. It was, but not for a long time. Would you like to play with it?" "Would I? Do you mean it? That would be awesome! Are you sure it's okay? I mean…" "Yes, sweetheart, I mean it. It would do my heart good to know it wasn't down here just gathering dust. I think it would make Harold very happy too." There was a tear in her eye. "Oh, Nana, thank you!" I hugged her so tight. I think I might have lifted her off the floor. I gave her a great big kiss on the cheek and looked back over the display. I approached the layout with reverence, lightly touching it, following the track with my eyes. I found the controls and studied them carefully. I wanted to be sure of what each one did before I went any further. I never laid my hands on anything like this. I was lost in its intricacies when I made the first tentative turn of the transformer knob. An engine came to life and slowly started to move. I felt something placed on my head, then a hug from behind and a kiss on my cheek. I could take my eyes off the train, but I'm sure I felt a little wetness there. I was lost in wonder. I carefully tried each control, only for a second at first, just to make sure it did what I thought it would. After a while, I had two trains going and track switches working. I was thrilled, and I had barely scratched the surface of what it all could do. "Davey, you're Mommy's here." I almost whined for five more minutes. I really wanted to keep playing. Instead, I called back, dejectedly, "Okay." I carefully shut everything down, reversing the order in which I started them. When I stood up, a shiver ran through me. There was wetness on the backs of my thighs. I froze. How was I going to get out of there without them seeing? "David, come on," Kathy called. "It's time to go home and leave Nana in peace." "Coming," I lied. Now she was waiting at the top of the stairs. Was there a back door to this place? "Now, David. Don't make me come down there." There was nothing else for it. I slowly climbed the steps. There may as well have been a gallows at the top. "David! What have you done? I'm ashamed of you. Apologize this instant!" "I'm sorry, Nana." I meant it too. "You and I are going to have a talk about this when I get you home. I'm so sorry, Mavis." "It's alright, dear. I shouldn't have left him alone for so long. I should have known better after this morning." "This morning? You wet your pants twice in the same day? What am I going to do with you?" "Don't be too hard on him, Kathy. It wasn't that bad. I'm sure he couldn't help it. I really should have made him sit on the potty more." "It's not your fault, Mavis. There's no excuse for his wetting himself in the daytime. He should know when he needs to go potty, shouldn't you? If he doesn't, well we'll deal with it. But I think he was just being lazy and not wanting to stop playing. Get your bag and thank Nana. We're going home." "Thank you, Nana, for everything, especially for letting me play with the trains. That was so awesome." "You're welcome, sweetheart. You can play with them anytime you want, as long as your Mommy says it's alright." Kathy took the hat off my head and handed it to Nana. "Thank you, Mavis, but I think he's lost his engineer's license for a while. We'll see if he earns it back. I'll call you later." She pushed me out the door and scolded me all the way across the street and into the house. "Go upstairs, take off your clothes, and sit on the potty. Don't move until I tell you. I'll come up when I'm calm enough to deal with you." I don't know how long I was left to sit there, long enough for my legs to fall asleep. Kathy was calmer when she came in but still visibly upset. She picked up the saturated training pants. "For heaven's sake, David, what is wrong with you? I thought by now, you'd be getting better, but your just getting worse. I so want to spank you right now, but I don't trust myself to do it. Do you have any idea how much you embarrassed me? I've tried to be patient with you, but it's wearing pretty thin. I know you need a mommy right now, and I'm trying really hard to be that for you. I even told you, you could wear diapers all the time, if that's what you wanted. You said you didn't need them. You said you wanted training pants. You wanted to be a big boy. Then you go pissing your pants, not once but twice, the second time, so much you leaked. Well, mister, you listen to me, and you listen good. You want to piss your pants like a baby? Fine. You've got the whole weekend. You're going back into diapers right now, and you can piss and shit yourself to your heart's content. On Monday, if, and I mean if, I think you've learned your lesson, and you still want them, I'll consider letting you have your training pants back. But that's only going to happen if Nana will help with your toilet training. You'll sit on the potty on a schedule, you'll be supervised, your pants will be checked, and if you wet yourself, your going to be spanked, put back in diapers, and we'll start all over again the next time one of us is available to try and teach you to be a big boy. And don't think I'm going to be grounded just because you are being a baby. I have shopping to do this weekend, and you'll be coming with me, diaper bag and all. Do I make myself clear?" I had long since started crying. I sobbed, "I'm sorry." "I didn't ask if you were sorry. I said, do I make myself clear." "Yes, Mommy. Crystal." "Good. Get up and go in the bedroom. I need to get a diaper on you. You can clean up this mess afterward." "I can't," I wailed. "Are you defying me? After what you've done? Why the hell not?" "My legs are asleep." "Then I guess you'll just have to crawl like the baby you are acting like." I slid off the toilet and onto my knees. At first, I could hardly move my legs. Then the blood started to flow back into them, and that was much worse. Pins and needles only begins to describe the electric burning that flared with every movement. Kathy slapped my behind, and I screamed. Halfway to the bedroom, enough feeling had returned that I tried to stand. Kathy told me to stay where I was; she would let me know when I was allowed to walk again. I crawled up on the bed and lay back to be diapered. Kathy told me to roll over. I was sure she was going to take the belt to me, and I started bawling. Instead of fire on my bottom, I felt cold stickiness. She was slathering me with Desitin. It felt like she was using enough for three of me. I heard the rustling of diapers and saw two of them laid open next to me. She told me to roll over, and she applied a layer just as thick to the front. She covered me in a cloud of baby powder. It took her several wet wipes to get her hands reasonably clean. She taped up the double diaper and looked dissatisfied. She went away and came back with a roll of clear packing tape. She told me to stand, and she wrapped the tape around me three times. "That ought to hold you. Get in bed. From what I heard, you had more than enough to eat today. If you're quiet, and I feel like it, I might bring you a bottle later. I do not want to hear a peep out of you. Understand?" "Yes, Mommy," I squeaked. She looked down at me for a long time. Finally, she sat down on the bed. She brushed the tears from my cheeks and the hair away from my forehead. "Sweetheart, I love you. I really do. I know that this has all been hard on you. The thing is, this is all hard on me too. Shh. It's okay. I can deal with it, but you have to deal with it too. You have to decide what is going on and how you are going to handle it. What's happening isn't working. If anything, the situation is getting worse. I need you to think really hard about this. Do you think there is something wrong with you that you are losing control of your bodily functions, something physically wrong? If you do, I'll call Margaret on Monday. We'll get all the tests and specialists we need to make you better." I started to speak, but she put a finger over my lips and shushed me gently. "Don't answer now. I want you to think hard about that over the weekend. I don't know how your body feels inside. Margaret didn't find anything wrong with you before, and I don't think there is now. But you can tell me in a couple of days, after you think about it. As for me, I feel like you are trying to live in two worlds at the same time. A part of you wants to be a little boy and be taken care of. A part of you wants to be a big strong man. Both of those things are fine. But I think trying to both is hurting you. I think it's causing problems for me. I think you have to choose. If you can't handle the responsibility of keeping your pants dry, or just don't want it, you have to tell me. There are things we… I can do to prevent it from being a problem. It would mean some big changes for both of us, but we can deal with it, I promise. But you can't go around just wetting your pants, like you did today. That hurts us both, and it hurt Nana. It's all forgiven now, but you need to make some decisions. "You need to decide if there's something physically wrong with you and if not, which world you want to live in. Do you want to be a grown up, or do you need to be a little boy for now? I want you to take your time and really think about this. It's very important, and you should not make your decision quickly. I want you to take your time, and I won't ask for or listen to your answer until Monday. I'm not going to push you in any direction, and I'll respect any decision you make. But I think, and I hope you agree, that what you did today was not the right way to handle what's happening, and that it deserves some consequences." I was sniffling, but I nodded. "Good. So, until Monday morning, you are going to be in diapers. You will use them when you need to, and you will do what I say. You can learn just what it's like to be Mommy's baby and whether that's right for you. Do not ask to be let out before we discuss your decision. I am not going to change my mind. And if you think this is easy for me, think about what changing one of your dirty diapers is like for me. Now, I want you to get some sleep. It's been a trying day for both of us." She stood up, tucked me in, and kissed me on the forehead. "I love you, my baby-husband, no matter what." She turned out the light and left the room. I tried to think about what she said, but it was just too much, and I drifted off into a less than peaceful sleep. I felt Kathy curl up against me, and I slept better after that. I was suddenly cold and flailing for the blankets. "Wake up, sleepyhead," Kathy sang merrily. I was still in a fog. "Let's check that dipee. Oh, yes, all wet. Let's get you changed." She was cutting through the tape she had wrapped around me before I could fully comprehend where I was, let alone what she was doing. I was more or less awake by the time she taped up the fresh diaper. She told me to put on some pants and come downstairs for breakfast. I was greeted by a spread of pancakes and sausage. This was not unheard of on a Saturday morning, but it was usually me cooking it. I sat down, and Kathy placed a mug of steaming coffee in front of me. I looked at her curiously. "Yes, I know what I said last night about your being Mommy's baby this weekend, but I don't think we have to go overboard. You do need to wear and use your diapers, and you have to do as I tell you, but I'm not going to make you drink from bottles or talk baby talk… unless you want to, that is. Oh, and unless we go out in public, you will call me Mommy, okay? I don't have any plans to go anywhere, but you never know. And public does not include Nana's house." I figured I could live with that, and I was already tucking into my pancakes anyway; so, I nodded. "Oh fay." "Don't talk with your mouth full. Then it's agreed." I'm not ashamed to admit I was stuffed when I finally put down my fork after my third helping. Okay, maybe a little ashamed, but it was really good. Kathy had long since finished and was tidying up. She brought a wet cloth when she came for my plate. "I know I said you wouldn't have to use a bottle, but maybe a bib might have been in order." I looked down and saw a number of places where syrup had dripped on my shirt. I blushed. Kathy chuckled and wiped them off. Then she wiped my face and my hands. She said I could do the dishes. I thanked her, sarcastically, for the privilege, and she gave me a warning look. I laughed. She checked my diaper, which deflated me a little, even though it was dry, and I took up the task. I don't mind washing dishes, especially when it's not many and somebody else did the cooking. The rest of the day was mostly uneventful, other than the diaper checks and changes, our normal Saturday routine. The first was a little traumatic. I felt the urge to pee coming on while I was washing up from breakfast. All the coffee I drank wanted out, but I didn't want to just stand there and wet myself. Kathy noticed my little dance at the sink. She told me I may as well get it over with, because the diaper wasn't coming off until I needed a change. I did manage to hold off until I finished and got out of her sight, but by that time, I was desperate, and it all came out in a rush, and I ended up with a very noticeable leak. Kathy just shook her head with an "I told you so" expression when I went to her but said nothing more about it when she changed me. After that, I didn't resist so much. Sunday was shaping up to be more of the same. Kathy reminded me over breakfast, just cereal and coffee, that I had a big decision to make the next day and asked whether I had thought about it. I told her I had—I'd thought of little else—but hadn't made any decisions. I puttered around the house and spent some time on the computer. Kathy spent a lot of time on the phone. Then we realized we hadn't anything in the fridge to make for dinner. Somebody was going to have to go to the store. Kathy told me to put on something decent; sweats and a t-shirt were not her idea of appropriate shopping attire. "Do I have to go?" "Of course, you have to go. I can't leave a baby home alone." "Can't I stay with Nana?" "No, we've been imposing on her enough. Just get dressed, and stop whining." "But I don't want to go out like this." "You are going out. No one is going to notice. The only question is whether you are going to go with a sore bottom, because I'm this far from spanking you." "Okay. Okay. I'll go." Kathy was right. Despite the fact that grabbing something for dinner turned into a major shopping trip, nobody seemed to notice my condition. All in all, there were no problems, at least until we were on the way home. That's when not pooping for the last couple of days decided to catch up with me. I was really trying to hold out until Monday, when I was sure I could get Kathy to let me use the toilet. No such luck. We were barely out of the grocery store parking lot when the first cramp hit me, hard. I passed some gas and felt better. Kathy cracked her window, and I apologized. A few blocks later, it happened again. It wasn't long before the cramps started coming in waves. I was holding my own, but now I had to pee. I was very uncomfortable and starting to sweat. The last wave passed about the time we pulled in the driveway, and I felt I was home free, if you'll pardon the expression. I got out of the car, and another cramp hit me so hard I nearly doubled over. I clamped down hard on my back door but forgot about my bladder. I started to pee. Shaken, I tried to stop that and lost control of my bowels. I was standing in the driveway, filling my pants front and back. I was mortified and scanning the neighborhood to see who might be watching. Kathy rushed me into the house. She took me straight to the bathroom and got my shoes and pants off. No damage was done. She asked me if I was finished, and I admitted I wasn't sure. She told me to stay there; she would unload the car. In the eternity that followed, it turned out to be the right thing to do; I wasn't finished. My diaper was a saggy mess by the time Kathy returned. She held me for a long time and shushed away my attempts to apologize. She had me lie on the floor, and she started a bath. She toughed her way through removing the diaper and a cursory cleaning. She told me to soak while she put the groceries away. I think I was starting to doze when she came back and began washing me. The bath was a tender time, and she acted as if nothing was out of the ordinary. I felt better, and Kathy showed me that dirty diapers or not, she was still interested in me as a husband. I was very content, and probably could have used another bath, by the time she was putting a new diaper on me. The evening passed quietly. Kathy asked me if I might want a bottle before bedtime. I told her that depended on what was in it. She smiled and told me to stay put. She came back a few minutes later with a bottle filled with wine. A baby bottle is not the best way to drink wine. It's really too much at one time, especially when one is being encouraged to drink it all up. The nipple doesn't do anything to improve the flavor. But lying with your head in the lap of your lover while getting quickly inebriated certainly makes up for it. I slept very well that night. Morning came way too early for me. The sun was barely up, and I was having a nice dream. "Get up, honey." I moaned and pulled the covers over my head. Kathy pulled them back down. "It's decision day, and I have to be at work in a couple of hours. Let's get you changed." Kathy had me sorted quickly and let me have enough coffee to bring the world into focus before starting our discussion. "Sweetheart, it's time," she started. She seemed as hesitant as I felt. "I guess the first question, and the one that kept me up a lot over the last few days, is: do you feel like something is wrong with your body? I mean with your accident yesterday; I have been really worried." "No," I assured her. "I was just hoping I could make it till today. I didn't want to do that in the diaper. If I had been able to use the bathroom, it wouldn't have been a problem." "So, you held your poopies in until you had a big accident in your diaper anyway." "I guess." "Not very mature, was it?" "I suppose not." "So, you feel like you are healthy? Nothing wrong?" "I don't think so." "Well, that's a relief. The bedwetting is one thing. There are lots of reasons that can happen, and we'll get to the bottom of it eventually. But it doesn't explain your daytime accidents. Are you sure there's nothing going on inside?" "Yes, I'm fine." "Then why have you been peeing your pants? Can you feel when you need to go?" "Yes." "Does it hurt to go? Are you having a hard time going? Can't you hold it?" "No, no, and no. I'm fine, really." "Then why are you wetting your pants?" She didn't seem concerned anymore, more irritated. "I don't know." "Are you just trying to get my attention? Do you feel like I'm neglecting you?" "No, of course not." "Then what is it? Are you just being lazy?" "I… I don't know." "David, we both know that you can't go around wetting your pants all the time." "It's not all the time." "Don't interrupt. The way I see it, you are just being irresponsible. Like I told you before, if you don't want the responsibility, there are ways I can handle it. But if you want to be a big boy, you have to get a grip on this and stop wetting and pooping your pants right now. You've had all weekend to think about this. There are two choices left. You can be a responsible grown up, or you can be a little boy. So, what's it going to be?" "What happens if I choose to be a grown up?" "I'll expect you to act like a grown up. You look for a new job. Until you find one, you'll be expected to take care of the house. And I will not tolerate wet or poopy pants. There will be consequences, if that happens. That might be spanking you the first few times, but I will not put up with it indefinitely." "You'd leave me?" I asked, visibly scared that she might. "I'm not saying that. I don't plan to; I don't want to. I just can't say it's out of the question. I guess it depends on how hard you push me." "Please, please don't. I don't want to lose you. What about the other choice? What if I was a little boy?" "Sweetheart, I don't want to lose you either. I love you, no matter what you decide. But to answer your question, little boys are different. They can't be expected to be responsible all the time. Little boys have accidents in their pants. That's why they can't wear big boy undies. Mommies understand this. But little boys who wet themselves can't really be trusted to change themselves when they need to, can they? That means that they can't be left alone. They need to be watched to make sure they get changed regularly and don't get diaper rash, which means you'll have to stay with Nana while I'm at work. We have already discussed this, and it's all decided. On the other hand, because you can't expect too much from little boys, they get to play a lot more. Sure, they'll have some chores, but not like a grown up." "You mean I'd have to wear diapers all the time? Could I maybe be a little boy and still wear regular underpants?" "Sweetie, we discussed this. I think it's this half in, half out attitude that is causing your problems. I think that, for right now, you need to be a little boy, that it would be good for you, and that it's what you really want too. But I also think you are fighting it, trying to act like a grownup sometimes and not others. I think you are being pulled between what you want and need, on the one hand, and what you think you should be doing, on the other. I think it's that tension that's causing a lot of your problems. For your own sake, if not for mine, you need to pick one or the other, because not choosing is hurting both of us." "But I don't want to wear diapers all the time." "Don't whine, honey. I've thought about this a lot. I think it would be a lot easier if you did, but if you really don't want to, we can try you in training pants during the day. Nighttime is non-negotiable for now; so is naptime. But understand, your wearing training pants comes with a lot more responsibility for everyone. For you, that would mean telling me or Nana when you have to go potty. No, you cannot just go by yourself. Nana and I will each decide whether you need to be supervised, but I want you to tell us when you have to go, so we can keep track. Nana and I would also be telling you, from time to time, that we want you to sit on the potty and try. You said you are not sick; so, there should be no excuses for having accidents in your training pants. If you do, Nana and I will each decide whether it deserves a spanking. I've already given her permission to spank you for this or any other disobedience. You do not want to find out what will happen if you give her any trouble about it. If you have two accidents in one day, you'll go back to diapers until I decide you are ready to try again. If you can live with those rules and promise to try really hard, we'll try you in training pants for the time being. Nana and I will also decide whether you should be in diapers if we have to take you somewhere, and there won't be any arguments, understand?" "Yes." She looked at me expectantly. "Mommy." "Alright. That's one way to go. Your other choice would be to just wear diapers all the time. You wouldn't have to worry about when you had to go potty. We'll check you and change you when you need it. If you want to make poopies in the potty, you can tell us. Let's face it; changing your dirty diapers is not fun. You don't have to, but you can. But we'll decide whether it's convenient to put you on the potty; so, no whining. We may still tell you to try making peepee in the potty, but you are not to ask. If this is the way you want to go, I want you to relax and not be concerned about keeping your pants dry. Let us worry about them. No one will make a fuss over a wet or dirty diaper; that's what they are there for. You can play or do your chores and not worry about wetting your pants. "So, you have a couple of choices to make, and I need you to make them now. There are no wrong answers here. I love you and will support you whatever you decide. I want you to do what you think is best for you. First, do you want to try being a grownup, or do you want to be a little boy?" I tumbled the alternatives in my brain. I had been contemplating it all weekend but didn't have this new information to work with. Kathy waited patiently, but I caught her checking her watch. "Little boy," I finally gave in. "I really think that's for the best. So, diapers or training pants?" "Can we do training pants, please?" I whined. "Are you sure? You know the consequences, if you start having accidents." I hesitated, asking myself whether I was making the right decision. "Uh huh." "Alright then. You had fair warning; so, you had better not abuse the privilege. Now, I need to get to work. Let's check your diaper." She came around and put her hand on the front. "Still dry. That's fine. Just tell Nana when you need the potty, and she'll put you in your training pants. Now, go get dressed, or I'm going to be late." "I don't get them now?" "I told you before, I'm not wasting perfectly good diapers. Now, go get dressed; or would you prefer to discuss it over my lap?" "I'm going," I sighed. By the time I was back downstairs, Kathy was waiting by the door with, what I could only assume, was my diaper bag. She took me by the hand and led me across the street. Nana opened the door as we approached. "There he is," she sang. "That was a very grown up decision you made. But the last one for a while, hmm? We're going to have lots of fun together while you get all better, okay?" I found myself shyly nodding my head and trying to slip behind Kathy. Kathy defended me, saying, "I guess he's feeling a little shy this morning. Here's his diaper bag. He can help you bring more supplies over after he gets settled in, but that should hold you for now. He still has his diaper on from this morning, but we're going to try him in training pants for a while. We've discussed the rules. He can have his pull-ups after he goes potty. I guess that's it for now. I think we discussed everything over the weekend, but if you run into any difficulties, you have my cell." She kissed my cheek. "Be good for Nana. I don't want any bad reports. I love you, sweetie. Have fun today." She took my hand from hers and gave it to Nana. Then she was off. Nana raised my hand and waved it for me. When Kathy's car was headed down the road, Nana took me inside. She asked me if I wanted something to eat. I told her I ate already. She filled a sippy cup with apple juice anyway. "Why don't you just take that and go play with your trains. We can talk when you're a little more awake, okay?" I was relieved to be off the hook for a while and welcomed the chance to be alone with my thoughts. I nodded and headed for the basement. Nana called after me. "Don't forget to come find me when you have to go potty." That caused me to stop and cringe for a second. I guess that was enough acknowledgment for Nana, because she said no more. I blushed and continued on my way. I had planned on brooding over my new life, but once I got started with the trains, all other thoughts left my head. Sometime later, a voice invaded my play. "Davey," it sang. "Davey?" "David! Stop that train." Nana was standing at my shoulder. I cut the power and the train slowed to stop. "You answer when Nana calls you, young man. You've been down here quite a while. I think you had better take a break and sit on the potty, don't you?" Now that she mentioned it, I did, more than I realized. "Uh huh." "Come on then. I'll get you some more juice too." I practically ran up the stairs to the bathroom. She shouted after me to slow down. I was in the bathroom trying to get my pants down when she caught up with me. It was difficult to do while dancing. "Let's get that diaper off." She pushed my hands away and undid the tapes herself. She pulled it from between my legs and pushed me back to sit. A stream hit the water almost immediately. "Just in time, I see. Well, almost in time." There was a small, but not inconsequential wet spot on the diaper. I was mortified. "That's alright. I shouldn't have let you stay down there so long. We won't mention this, okay." I nodded gratefully. "Stay there, and I'll be right back with some dry pants." She wasn't gone long but long enough for me to berate myself for not paying more attention to my bladder. I told her I could dress myself, but she insisted on helping. She suggested we take care of a few chores before lunch. These included going to my house to bring over more supplies. I said I didn't think we needed so many pairs of training pants, and I begged her not to bring the diapers. "Better safe than sorry. Besides, you'll need them for your naps." I didn't plan on taking any naps, but it seemed pointless to argue with her. So, I trudged back across the street with a big cardboard box of what would be my underwear for the foreseeable future. It was lunchtime, and Nana fixed us sandwiches. I was pleased she didn't try to make me wear a bib, but she did insist I use the sippy cup. Afterward, she had more chores for us. True to her word, she frequently asked me if I needed to use the potty, several times insisting that I try. I couldn't tell whether she was smiling or smirking when I produced. Late in the afternoon she suggested I watch TV until my mommy got home. I was happy to oblige. I must have nodded off, because Nana was pulling down my pants. "Shh. Calm down, sweetheart. You're very tired, and I think we should get a diaper on you, just in case." "I'll stay awake, I promise." "Don't worry, honey. It's okay if you don't want to take a nap. Nana will feel much better though, if we put your diaper on. Do you want to use the potty first?" I shook my head. There was no arguing with her. "Alright; if you're sure. We'll just put this on, and you can rest." Safely wrapped up, she let me return to my movie. I didn't see the end. The sun was much lower when I heard Kathy's voice. "I hope he wasn't any trouble today." "Nothing serious dear. I left him to play too long this morning. He mostly made it in the potty. That was my fault, and you shouldn't say anything about it. Otherwise, he was a very good boy, hardly any fuss. He might be a little wet now. He didn't want to use the potty before I put him down for his nap." I stretched, making it known that I was awake and giving me an opportunity to check my pants. I was disappointed to find Nana was right. I was a little wet. "Hi, baby," Kathy beamed, sitting down next to me. "Did you have fun with Nana today?" Other than the trains, I wouldn't have called it fun, but it wasn't bad. "Uh huh." "And were you a good boy for Nana?" I looked up at Mrs. Travers; she was smiling back at me. "Yes, Mommy. I was good." "He sure was. He helped me a lot," Nana praised. I nodded in agreement. "That's my good boy." Kathy hugged me. "But now it's time to get you home and fed. Thank Nana." "Thank you, Nana," I said automatically. I pushed back the blanket she must have covered me with and stood up. Kathy felt my crotch and appeared to come to some decision. She picked up the diaper bag and kissed Nana on the cheek. "Yes, thank you, Mavis. I don't know what I'd do without you. Say bye-bye, Davey." "Bye-bye, Nana. See you tomorrow." "Think nothing of it, Kathy. It's my pleasure. Bye-bye, sweetheart. Maybe we'll make cookies tomorrow. How does that sound?" My face lit up. "Don't get him thinking about cookies. I need to get dinner in him. Thanks again. I'll see you in the morning." Kathy took me home and immediately started to take things out for dinner. I tried to help, but she insisted I sit down and tell her about my day. I did and watched her cook while feeling bad that she had worked all day and was now working again. I told her I was going to wash up and use the potty. I couldn't stop calling it that. "It's alright, honey. Just use your diaper. It's already damp, and I'm going to have to change you for bedtime anyway." I sulked back to the bathroom. I wet myself while washing my hands. Dinner was up to Kathy's usual standards. I would have made a pig of myself, if she'd have let me. She left the washing up to me, which alleviated my guilt. Kathy came back as I was drying the last dish. "Okay, baby, bath time." "Already? I don't want to go to bed yet." "I didn't say you had to go to bed, but if you're getting cranky, maybe you should." "No. Sorry." "That's better. Come on then." Bath time was fun. Kathy had picked up some bath toys. It took some encouragement on her part for me to try them out. After pushing a boat around tentatively, she left me alone. Without an audience, it was easier for me to try playing. I was really getting into it when she came back. I didn't want to stop, but she said I was already pruning up, and she needed to get me clean. Her ministrations were fun too. Dried and back in the bedroom, I saw a large cloth diaper on the bed. "Where did that come from?" "I picked those up today," she said, as if she were talking about a new pair of socks. "The lady at the store said they were much more effective for nighttime, especially for side sleepers. She told me they are very comfortable too." I wasn't at all sure about this. Arguing with Kathy is rarely productive, but maybe I could distract her. "But it's still early. I'm not ready to go to bed yet." "It's not that early. You'll be going to bed soon. You may as well get ready now." "But what if I need to pee?" "Well, we'll just have to take it off. Anyway, you just went, and it's not like it would be the first wet diaper you slept in, would it?" "I guess." "Then lay your butt down, so I can get your diaper on, and we can watch TV for a while. Or would you prefer I give you a spanking and put you to bed right now?" I made the only sensible decision. Instead of closing the diaper up right away, Kathy started smearing sticky, white paste on my bottom. "The clerk said it's important to protect against diaper rash when using cloth." Lots of powder followed. Kathy's rubbing everything in overcame any displeasure I had with the experience. All too soon, Kathy brought the front of the diaper up and pinned it in place. She threaded plastic pants over my feet and had me stand up. The cloth diaper—or diapers I should say; there were obviously several—felt entirely different, the plastic pants even more so. The diaper was pleasantly soft, although it inhibited my movements, much like the double disposables had. The plastic pants were scratchy around the openings. They came up well onto my abdomen and ballooned out. They were somewhat stiff and made a soft, almost crackly sound when I moved. I caught sight of myself in Kathy's chevalier mirror. Let's be clear; there is nothing mature looking about a man in an adult diaper, except perhaps the knowledge that old people wear them. However, there is something vaguely clinical about them, and under the right clothes, they are relative discrete. On the other hand, a thick cloth diaper covered by billowing plastic pants is nothing short of infantile. It would take a lot to overcome the impression that the wearer is a big baby who can't control himself. I stared at my reflection for a long time, pondering what I was becoming. "I think you look adorable," Kathy said, hugging me from behind. "Here, let's put your jammies on, and then we can go watch some TV, okay?" I tore my eyes away from the mirror and let Kathy dress me. I was still stunned and had no will to resist. As I walked down the stairs, I felt I was moving as I looked, like a baby. The swaying of my hips and the rustling of the plastic pants confirmed with each step the road I was on. "What's the matter, baby?" Kathy asked when she saw my tears. "That," I said, pointing at the mirror. "That's what's the matter. I'm turning into a baby. What's wrong with me?" "Oh, honey, there's nothing wrong with you. You're still my big strong man. It's just that you're my adorable little baby too. And I love you so much!" "How can you love me like… this?" "Sweetie, sweetie, I love you like this, or any other way. This is what you need right now. There's nothing wrong with it. You're having a bit of rough patch right now, and we are dealing with it the best way we know how. You're just feeling vulnerable, and that's okay. In fact, it's more than okay; it's attractive." "You find this attractive?" "Yes, I do. You may not realize it, but you have been far more open than you have been in a really long time. I feel I am able to get closer to you than I can remember. You are letting me in on your feelings, where you have been hiding them for years. It feels good to be needed. If what you are wearing helps with all that, I'm more than okay with it. Truth be told, I find the fact that I'm 'in charge' of some things very sexy." As if to prove the point, she snuggled closer and rubbed the front of my pants. She placed my hand on her own crotch, which was noticeably hot and damp. "I love you, baby, and I always will. Now, how about a smile for Mommy? Can you do that? Would you like Mommy's titty? Would that make you feel better?" Let's just say I was feeling much better by the time we went to sleep. Over the next several weeks, after some trial and error, we settled into a routine. Kathy would drop me off at Nana's house. I would have breakfast and some time to wake up with the paper or internet. There'd be some chores to do before lunch. Afterward, I would be put down for a nap. At first, I fought this, but after getting spankings from both Nana and Kathy, I stopped resisting. After my nap, I'd help Nana with whatever she wanted to do. Sometimes, it was chores; other times, it was baking or shopping. Then, I had playtime; that usually meant the trains. The reason I disliked the naps, and why I fought them the way I did, was that Nana and Kathy insisted that I be diapered, just in case. That wouldn't have been so bad, but they also insisted that throwing away a dry diaper was just wasteful. I did not get my training pants back until I was wet. I think that contributed to my increasingly frequent naptime wettings. I mostly enjoyed my time with Nana. She was sweet, always made me feel special, and often gave me treats. I was starting to put on weight. The downside was her approach to "toilet training" me. She made me try to use the potty far more frequently than necessary. I wouldn't have minded so much, but it always seemed to be at an inopportune moment, and she insisted on taking me and helping me with my pants. I told her I could just go myself, but she would have none of it. She said she had to make sure I hadn't had an accident and that I did something in the toilet. If I didn't produce, the look of disappointment on her face was deeply disheartening. If several attempts did not result in anything, she would make be sit there until something happened. She would get very cross and tell me she was not going to let me wet my pants just because I was too lazy or obstinate to use the potty like a big boy. My protests that she was just making me try too often, and that I always made when I asked to use the potty, fell on deaf ears. This poor timing came to a head one day when I was playing with the trains. I had been very wet after my nap, and Nana made me use the potty a couple of times while doing my chores. I didn't need to go when she took me up a while into my playtime. About fifteen minutes after she let me go downstairs, I started to feel the urge. I was sure she would be back to get me soon, as that had become the pattern. She didn't, and I continued play as my bladder became more insistent. I was getting toward the point of desperation when I went to find Nana and tell I needed the potty. I found her on the phone. I stood and watched her until she took notice of me. She excused herself and covered the mouthpiece. She asked me what I wanted, and I told her of my need. "I just took you a few minutes ago." "I didn't need to go then." "If that's true, you shouldn't need to go that badly now. I'll be with you when I'm off the phone. Go play." "Sorry, about that," she said into the receiver. "I'm watching the neighbor's boy, and he wanted my attention. ... He says he needs to go potty, but I just took him five minutes ago.… No, no, I'm sure he can hold it for a couple of minutes. He needs to learn that he can't just go the moment he feels like it.… Yes, boys are always more difficult to train.… Ha, ha, ha, yes, men too. Davey, go play. I'll be with you as soon as I'm off the phone." I ducked back downstairs, muttering to myself that it had been a lot more than five minutes, and she should have just let me go by myself. I tried to play some more, but my need was growing stronger. A few minutes later, I was back upstairs and making gestures to indicate that time was of the essence. She wasn't paying attention. "Nana," I whispered. Nothing. "Nana," I said a little louder. "Nana," I whined, louder still and fearful I would be heard over the phone. "Davey, don't interrupt. I told you I would be right with you. If you can't behave yourself, you can go stand in the corner. Go on, march." Her look left no doubt that she was serious. I stomped my foot and went to the corner the indicated. "I'm sorry. You were saying?" Her conversation went on and on. It wasn't long before I was clutching myself and shifting from foot to foot. "What? Yours too? I guess you had better be going. Goodbye, Debbie. Give my love to Tony." She must have been talking to her daughter-in-law. She hung up the phone and walked up behind me. She gave a hard swat to my behind. That was more than I could take, and a large squirt erupted into my training pants. "David, I'm very disappointed in you. Don't you know it's rude to interrupt when someone is on the phone? I bet you don't interrupt your Mommy when she's on the phone, do you?" "No," I conceded. "But…" "But nothing. Whatever it was could have waited. I told you I wasn't going to be long." "But I had to go potty," I whined. "You're a big boy, you can hold it for a couple of minutes, can't you?" "Yeah," I said tentatively. "Let's get you to the potty then," she sighed. Once in the bathroom, I started to undo my pants. I was really hoping she would go away. Instead, she brushed my hands away and took over. "David! How could you? You said you could hold it. I thought you were a big boy." "I am. I can. But… you spanked me." "That little slap on the tushy? That's your excuse? Well, we'll just see about that. I'll show you what a real spanking is, after you finish on the potty. If there's anything left, that is." She pushed me down firmly onto the seat and, much to my embarrassment, pushed my pee pee down between my legs for me. She would usually leave me alone to do my business, but not this time. She hovered, glaring at me and tapping her foot. I forced myself to overcome my bladder shyness and peed a still considerable amount. I felt the rumblings of a bowel movement coming on, but with Nana standing there, it wasn't going to happen. When she decided it was done, grabbed my wrist, pulled me up, flushed the toilet, and dragged me to her room with my pants still around my ankles. She grabbed a hairbrush off her dresser and sat down on her bed. I was over her knees in a trice. She put the hairbrush to work right away and had me blubbering out excuses, apologies, and promises before I could think. She kept up a steady barrage of scolding. "I just can't believe it, a big boy like you, interrupting me on the phone, peeing his pants, blaming it on one little slap, can't wait a couple of minutes to use the potty. I've known toddlers better behaved. Just wait till your Mommy hears about this. I'm sure she won't be happy. I can tell you this. You' won't be wetting your pants again in my house, not today. You're going right back into diapers where you belong." I'm not sure those were her exact words, but they were the gist of it. I'm not even sure she heard my protests that I tried, and she was a lot longer than a couple of minutes on the phone. I hadn't realized she stopped when she made me stand up and dragged me to the room I napped in. She pushed me down on the bed and got a diaper out. My blazing behind was wrapped up before I knew, and she was telling me I would be staying in bed the rest of the afternoon. "And if I hear one peep out of you, you'll think that spanking was playing pat-a-cake." She left me sobbing, while she muttered about the earful my mommy was going to get later. I willed myself to sleep, anything to avoid thoughts of what Mommy was going to say when she got there. I felt a gentle shaking of my shoulder, drawing me back to the land of the living. I was grateful to escape my troubled dreams, but when I saw Mommy sitting beside me, my eyes began to fill with tears again. I opened my mouth to beg her forgiveness, but she placed a finger over my lips. "Not now, sweetie. We'll talk about it when we get home." She helped me to sit up and put on some pants. "Let's get you home and fed, and we'll have a nice long talk, okay?" She didn't seem mad. That worried me. It wasn't like Kathy to restrain her feelings, and when she did, it usually resulted in a real blowout. She took my hand and led me downstairs. I followed with trepidation. Nana was waiting. She appeared considerably calmer too. I didn't understand, but I was not unhappy when she gave me a warm hug and a kiss on the cheek, with promises to see me tomorrow. Kathy was crossing the street leisurely, but my stress level went up with every step closer to our house. I was sure she would lower the boom as soon as we were behind closed doors. Instead, she pulled me into an embrace and rocked me. Without letting go, she made a quick diaper check and announced I would be fine until after supper. She took me into the kitchen and had me sit, while she prepared our meal. I asked if I could help, but she wouldn't hear of it. It was a simple supper, which I would have enjoyed more if I hadn't been waiting for the other shoe to drop. "Sweetie, about what happened at Nana's today," she began. Here it comes, I thought. "Nana wanted me to apologize for her getting so upset with you. After she put you down and had time to think, she realized that she really was talking for a long time, and she should have listened to you and taken you to the potty sooner." "If she'd just let me go by myself…" "Shh. It's okay. We know you are having trouble making it to the potty in time, and we shouldn't keep you waiting." "But I can," I protested. "Honey, are your pants wet now?" Without thinking, I put my hands to my crotch, and blushed when I felt the squish. "Come here, baby." I stood and walked around to her. She unbuttoned my pants and pushed them down. She squeezed the front of my diaper and looked at me. "Sweetie, you are more wet than when I got you up from your nap. Did you know that?" I didn't, and I felt another cry coming on. "There, there, sweetheart. Don't worry. Mommy's not mad. I know you can't help it. I think your worrying about keeping your pants dry is getting to be too much for you. You're just not ready yet." "I am," I whined. "No, honey, I don't think so. That's why Mommy got you some new diapers today. They're cloth and have Velcro. You'll be able to feel if you wet them, and Nana will be able to get them off in a hurry if she has to. I don't want you to worry about making it to the potty in time. Nana will take you when she thinks you should try, but if you wet your diaper, nobody is going to be mad. No more spankings for wet pants, doesn't that sound good?" Something in her logic felt wrong, but I found myself nodding in agreement. "We can try potty training again after a while, but for right now, I want you to relax and not think about it, okay? You just play and help Nana and Mommy when we ask. Will you do that for Mommy?" Kathy was being so nice about the whole thing, I just sniffled and nodded my ascent. She stood up and drew me into a hug that I could have stayed in forever. "Let's get you a nice tubby and then you can go night-night, okay?" Do I have to? by nautybaby ©2019-2024

I've known Lisa since Kindergarten. Even then I should of known something wasn't right about her. No she's not a psycho bitch or anything like that. I just remember her telling the teacher on almost a daily basis, "Teacher I peed!" Don't get me wrong I think we all had to tell the teacher that at least once. I got diarrhea and had to tell her "I pooped!" Plus I remember playing with Lisa and my friend Michael at recess, I kind of waited too long and I and Lisa both had to tell the teacher "We peed!" That was kindergarten. After that I don't ever remember having to tell the teacher I had an accident. I did get caught cutting my hair off with the scissors, not all of it just a huge chunk of it right in the front, that was either first grade or second, I can't remember. All I do remember is having to have the rest of my hair cut down to match that chunk I had cut out of my head with the scissors. The barber shaved me down to a buzz cut, I looked like I was a military recruit! He also warned me next time he would shave it all off, you know Mr. Clean style. I never even entertained that idea again. I didn't want to look like Mr. Clean at 7 or 8 years old. Lisa on the other hand still had accidents in her panties until at least third grade, they just weren't daily like they had been in Kindergarten. Lisa was the cutest girl in our class. She was blonde, little upturned nose, to me she was beautiful. I know I wasn't supposed to like girls, they had cooties! But I always had a thing for her. I don't know why. About our 7th grade year, Lisa became all girl. She began sprouting breasts, I mean the tits fairy was overly generous to her she put all other girls to shame! Her and I had always been good friends. We lived about a block from each other. At dances that they started having at 7th grade. I always took Lisa, She knew I was safe. This brought up my popularity, I had the girl with the biggest breasts in our class. Truth was I was a dweeb, I was never an athlete, I was slow as molasses running uphill in winter! I wasn't a brain, I got mostly B's and C's an occasional A. Lisa on the other hand was a beautiful brain. She was the A student, the girl that had the biggest breasts. That was until our Junior year and Beth Granger overtook her in the breast department. Still it wasnt by much! The C's I got were mostly in math. I was pathetic at math! It was a wonder that I could add 2 and 2 together and get 4. There were times for me it made 5. Some people were dyslexic at reading for me it was math, is there such a thing as math dyslexia? If there was I was sure I had it. Lisa agreed to tutor me. Since we were old friends. She came to my home and we would go over and over the quizzes I had them nailed. The next morning, I couldn't remember anything. It was like turning in bed at night erased everything like a an Etchasketch in my brain! By morning everything looked foreign again! Lisa felt for me. The Sr. Prom was coming up. I asked Lisa if she was going. "I don't know, nobody has asked me." I wanted to ask her, but would she go with a math dyslexic like me? "Will you go with me?" "Yes, Jimmy I will go with you!" "Alright, I smiled. What color is your dress, so I know the color of corsage to get?" "Deep purple!" "Cool my favorite color!" I said. "Mine as well!" She said. I started doing everything I could to earn money I picked up pop bottles and beer cans. Cleaned the garage, gutters, mowed lawns. I was enterprising. I had enough for everything. I went to pick Lisa up! You know something has happened you can feel it, almost cut it with a knife. At Lisa's house I could feel the tension! Something bad had been going on. Lisa was usually always bubbly, had a frown on her face. I felt it my duty to enhance her mood. I'm not the best comic but I started telling her jokes, that were even corny to me, soon her smile was back on her face! "Thanks Jimmie for making me feel better!" "Anytime Lisa, your my queen tonight, I want to make you feel like one!" I pinned the corsage on her and I didn't even prick her breast with the pin. That had been one of my major concerns. We arrived and even though I was born with two left feet I still danced with her. I do think I did step on her foot at least once, maybe twice. I got us some punch it was getting hot in the venue we had rented for the prom. They opened the doors after about an hour and a half. It began to cool down. Lisa and I got our photo taken of prom night. It started getting cool so they shut the doors that they had opened to air it out. Kurt Kowalski and his group had crashed the prom. Kurt was approximately the size of Mount Rushmore, and just as strong. He was our linebacker, and Wrestled as our Heavyweight. Massive and strong. He was everything I wasn't in the strength department. And was dumber than a box of rocks! Even dumber than me. At math when he added 2 and 2 where I got 5 he got 6! Tonight he was drunk and he was picking on kids littler than him, that was pretty much everybody. I was praying he wouldn't come and bother us. No such luck! "Edwards, whats up my man?" He slurred towards me. "Nothing Kurt, what's up with you?" I asked in the most non threatening manner I could muster, without wetting myself in front of my date, Lisa. "I wasn't allowed to come tonight, he said. Some thing about my grades not being good enough!" Like I said dumber than a box of rocks. "If I had of came I was thinking about asking Miss Lisa here. What do you say Miss Lisa?" "Go away Kurt, your drunk!" She said. I know she had just signed our death warrants. You dont poke the bear. Kurt was going to kill us, starting with me! Kurt's demeanor changed. "Oh Miss Upity doesn't want to be seen with me when I'm drunk!" He grabbed her and lifted her dress. I'm sure to look at her panties. I was surprised as he was Lisa was wearing a diaper. I took this time his shock and since she was my date. I'm not proud of what I did, I kicked Kurt square in the balls. He dropped like an avalanche. He said oof. His cronies started punching at me. My face was about destroyed by 4 guys punching me. Next thing I knew the police were there arresting them. Including Kurt who was still on his knees. Trying to catch his breath. All I could do was lay on the floor and bleed. My nose, lip, and eyebrow. We're leaking blood. They had the paramedics come look at me they decided that I needed a stitch in my eye. My biggest supporter was Lisa she kept ice on my eye. "Your my hero Jimmie!" She kissed my cheek several times. When we were alone in my limo that I had rented, on the way to the hospital, l never envisioned it would double as an ambulance! I asked Lisa about her diaper? "Remember in Kindergarten, how I used to wet all the time?" She asked me" "Yeah but you weren't the only one it happened to me once or twice!" I said. "Well the truth was I had little control over my bladder, that's why I wet all the time day and night!" "Okay, I know a few of those kids still wet their beds until they were much older." I said. "Yes I know, I was one of them. In fact I still wet my bed!" "You? But your so beautiful and smart!" "Beauty and brains were never required for continence! She smiled. Today I was getting my hair and nails done for tonight. I was really excited that you asked me to the prom, and I was actually going. I kind of had an accident from being so excited. Before you got to my house, my parents and I fought over if I should wear a diaper for tonight. Since I had wet myself earlier in the day from the excitment of the prom. You probably felt the tension when you got there. My parents told me I was wearing one or they would tell you why I wasn't going. I wore the diaper. Like the next girl I don't like being reminded that at 17 years old I still sleep in those diapers." "You know I must be weird, or I got a concussion or something, but the thought of you in diapers and still wetting your bed. Really excites me!" "Really?" she asked me? She looked and I had pitched a tent in my trousers! "Wow, you really are excited!" She kissed my cheek again she began rubbing me through my pants. I told her to stop or I wouldn't get the deposit back on the tux I had rented. But truly I wished she wouldn't. After that I was lucky that my eye took only two stiches. Kurt and his Cronies were expelled. Lisa and I began dating. She knew how to tease me she sent me photos of her getting ready for bed in her diaper and wet ones in the morning. On my phone. I wonder if she knew I masturbated to those photos? I'm sure she did! Thats why she sent them to me! I also began to wonder about my sanity, is it normal for a guy to be aroused by a girl in a wet diaper. Am I nuts? I looked on line, Holy Hell! I found web sites that charge a hell of a lot more money a month than I had, to look at photos of girls in diapers often wet. I got mine for free and I knew and was dating the model! She was just as pretty as the girls getting paid to pose for these photos. And I wasn't sure if some of them weren't staged that you paid for! I knew Lisa's were real! After a few months of dating Lisa. Her dad took me aside and asked me if I knew everything about his daughter. "What do you mean everything? I asked? "My daughter has medical problems she has to wear adaptive clothing for." "You mean her diapers?" I asked? "You know? That doesn't scare you off if her?" "I found out the night if the prom about her diapers, should it scare me off? "Ahh," he didn't know what to say. "Most guys would be repulsed by a 18 year old bed wetter, how come your not?" "Sir I love your daughter, if she has a few medical problems. I have an Epipen in case of bee stings, I'm deathly allergic, we all have something wrong. If you can't tell I'm not the most athletic of individuals, but your daughter loves me, She is smart enough and beautiful enough to have somebody better than me. Im the lucky one." "Son that's the best answer I've ever heard! She told me what you did at the prom, now I don't condone kicking another guy in the testicles but, you neutralized a situation of more embarrasment to my daughter! As a father I thank you for loving my daughter. Your right her bedwetting is only a turn off if you let it!" We went out that night we didn't go far. We hit a secluded spot and we began kissing, She took my hand and placed it between her legs under her dress. I felt her diaper. It began to warm and I knew she was wetting it for me. My Mr happy began to come alive. She began to stroke me through my jeans. I began stroking her through her diaper. We were both 18, me three weeks ago her a week. We wanted more but both of us have pledged to wait for real sex until after were married. Her doing this makes it harder to keep that promise. The End!

In a small neighborhood just outside of a small town lives a scientist Dr. Bradly Koultick or as the town knows him as "Dr. Kool". He always goes to the local fairs and does fun science for the town and even does a few science classes a month at the schools. Dr. Kool is a great guy but sometimes he's gotta do things to get funding for his research that doesn't have the best intentions. Recently his latest investor was a very large corporation that wanted him to develop a new soda that marked for kids but there was a misevious catch to what they wanted. As a large corporation like they usually do they have many products. They wanted to increase the sales of not only their new soda but also their new line of diapers. They ordered Dr. Kool to develop a soda that will be delicious and also have the side effect of bedwetting in young kids to preteens. "Your joking that's highly unethical and I'll be honest risky." Dr Kool said uneasy but let out a laugh to lighten the room. The dark dressed man looked intently at the scientist "Get it done or else." As he dropped the paper work on the lab bench and walked out of the house. This RP will follow Dr. Kools experiments on his soda and follow his unexpecting test subject Sarah from next door who is a 12 year old girl who is obvious to the experiment but does think the scientist is working on a new soda but will be in the dark on the effects it has. She will start bedwetting, then start to slowly lose her ability to hold her bladder and bowels and regress. This is open for anyone who is willing to reply in detailed replies of more than one sentence

I'm writing another short story, when I get writers block on my longer sagas I write a short one to get the juices flowing again. My cabin. I had two weeks off, frankly I can't wait I'm about 5 to 6 years away from retirement. Two weeks is never enough though! My cabin is in a little town and it's a ways out of town. I bought it way back years ago before the last recession, when we Got huge Christmas bonuses, it cost me a few thousand for the land I had the cabin built and the cabin is fairly small only one bedroom and a living room/ kitchen/ dining room and a toilet. I went there and I arrived very early in the morning like 2 am, it's a ways from the city I live in. Getting out of my car I breathed in the air so much cleaner than in the city, plus the smell of pine trees no little tree shaped air fresheners these were the real deal. I had left it stocked plenty of food mostly canned foods. I wasn't planning on leaving until it was time to go back home in two weeks plus I had several boxes of canned food to replace what I used this trip, lots of beef stew things like that, very few veggies. Hey I'm a man, I like my meat! As I went to unlock the front door I keep a padlocked and hasped plus the door is locked. I notice the padlock and hasp are broken. "Son of a bitch. Vandals, probably all my food is gone! Plus anything else not nailed down." I imagined, I could see it all stripped down nothing left not even my fucking bed I was so looking forward to! I entered and everything was still there. "Huh, surprise, surprise!" I went to the bathroom, I had to pee like for the last hour or so. I relieved myself and it felt wonderful! I wondered how long I had until my water works quit working. I am 60 years old after all. At 63 years old my dad began having problems with his prostate, nothing serious just when he had to go, he had to go. I seen my dad piss himself before. My dad was one of those guys tough as nails, could just about kick anybody's ass if needed, he took no crap from anybody! There he was wetting his pants like a three year old! I flipped switches no power, generator not working I guess. I went out side and went to the shed and started it. The house lights came on. All of em. I knew when I left that I had turned everything off. Yep somebody has been here alright! I started looking all the furniture couches were there. Kitchen pantry part of my store was missing but not a whole lot. Bedroom there was a lump under my blankets. I had made the bed before leaving. "Somebody has been sleeping in my bed!" The old children's story said. "And there she was!" A lady she was older just not as old as me, late 30's early 40's she was sound asleep. Me coming in and making noise hadn't disturbed her, one bit. I uncovered her she was clad only in a diaper, a diaper I thought and it was wet. She had fading bruises all over her body somebody had worked her over pretty good. "Assholes" I thought from what I could see she was very pretty why would somebody that had a trophy wife like this work her over?" She got chilled and was looking for the blanket. She awoke and seeing all the lights on she looked around cautiously she saw me and her eyes got wide. "What you doing here she demanded?" "I was about ready about ready to ask you the same thing. I own this cabin!" She got a shocked look on her face, " I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" She said. She went to get off the bed and realized that she was naked. She grabbed the covers and began to cover herself. She blushed a deep crimson. "You know I could have you arrested for breaking and entering?" She began to cry "Please don't do that!" She begged. "I said I could not that I am!" Her face relaxed. "Who you running from? I asked her. I seen all the bruising on your body.. she blushed again. "My ex boyfriend, he finally tired of my, my bedwetting, you saw my diapers." This wasn't asked as a question it was a statement. "So how long you been living in my cabin?" I asked her. "Almost two weeks," she said. "Really there isn't that much food missing?" "I only ate like every other day or every second day. I didn't want to eat all your food, besides I didn't know how to get your electricity working I had to eat everything cold." "I got a generator out back. That's why I have lights now. Are you hungry I asked?" "Starving! It has been since day before yesterday since I had anything to eat. I went and opened a can of Spam and some Canned Chili I began cooking it and frying the spam. She got out of my bed nude except for her wet diaper and we split it. Watching her eat I saw she had impeccable manners. I was right she had been somebody's trophy wife she looked the part. Her breasts were fairly good sized. I was sure there was silicon on board they had been enhanced. Being half starved she still didn't wolf her food down. "Are you going to kick me out or call the police?" She asked during the meal. "No cell phone reception out here for the police. Where would you go? There are other cabins but I just don't want to see you starve to death by only eating every other day or so, that wouldn't sit well on my conscious! Besides maybe some of the other cabin owners wouldn't be as understanding as me. If you go to jail your ex will find you. I don't want see him kill you next time he works you over another thing I don't want on my conscious!" "So your letting me stay?" "I'm here for 2 weeks, I could use some company if you don't mind*" "Mind? Please you won't be disappointed! I would of cleaned your house but no electricity!" "You don't need to do that! I'm a Batchelor, I kind of like living this way! I said, I don't need you putting yourself out for me." "It's no problem, besides I, I'm not used to living like this! Sorry!" "I hope you don't mind sleeping on the same bed, I only have the one." "No problem if you don't mind sleeping with a bedwetter?" "Wouldn't be the first time, I used to sleep with my brother Johnny he was a bedwetter and refused to wear diapers. There were mornings he had pissed on me as well. Your wettings are at least contained!" I turned off most of the lights I undressed and we crawled back into bed again. Soon she had spooned up to me as she was asleep. I could touch her wet diaper without moving my hand. Poor girl I thought, just like my brother Johnny. I used to feel sorry for him dad wanted to kill him every morning. He was an embarrassment to my dad! Later in his life dad became an embarrassment to himself. I fell asleep next to one of the most beautiful woman I had ever had without paying an arm and a leg for her. I have hired a few high priced hookers in my life. Compared to... You know we still didn't know each other's names. I would request a refund from them hookers. They couldn't compare to her!

Bill was waiting for his latest “victim” to get up. He’d started babysitting a younger kid who still peed the bed like a baby a while back; unbeknownst to the kid’s parents, it was his fault that this happened. He pulled the usual hand-in-bowl-of-warm-water trick more times than he could count, and the little moron always slept right through it. His parents were too naive to suspect the babysitter was the one behind it, and the kid had a history of bed wetting anyway, so he always got off it scot-free. Now he was home with the twerp, the parents were leaving him in charge for a solid month, and he couldn’t be happier. Bill could finally diaper him, like he’d been waiting to. He bought multiple packs of the most babyish-looking, thick diapers he could find, changing supplies, novelty-sized pacifiers, oversized baby clothes, a set of bars for the bed so it’d be more like a big crib, and even a pair of locking plastic panties so he could keep the brat lying in his own pee. Hell, he had a locking set of mittens, so the little shit couldn’t try taking off the panties, either. He could only imagine how amazing that would feel, to lock him up and force him to use the diapers. To have the little bastard crying and begging for mercy. Bill arrived with all of those things, and a plan in mind, but made a fatal error. He fell asleep by the twerp’s bed, his own hand in the warm water bowl, all the supplies spread around him, and wound up pissing himself in the process.

Growing up I was a bedwetter, that was bad enough, but my mom was bad she yelled at me, beat me, made me wear my wet diapers under my dress to school. Even worse than my mother was Johnny Jenson, or J.J. as everybody called him he was my neighbor. When we were younger, about 5 or 6 years old we were friends. I even had a crush on him. By the time we were 8 that had all changed. J.J. had turned into a terror a bona fide bully. If you was weaker, and I was I still was a bedwetter. My name was Betsy Wetter. J.J. called me Betsywetsy! When your that age and still wet your bed at night. You just don't want anybody to find out that you still wet your bed. J.J. told everyone. He heard my mom yell obscenities at me every morning, heard her beat the liven crap out of me then send me to school in my wet cloth diapers and plastic panties. Of course J.J. would lift my dress and expose my shame to the whole school. The yellowing saggy diapers that were there. If I had any self esteem my mom and JJ eroded it away from me. At seventh grade JJ's dad was transferred to another part of the state. Now all I had to contend with was my mother. I still wet my bed but there were more and more dry nights. Fast forward several years. I graduated high school got a scholarship to college and graduated from college. I still had about one wet night a week sometimes more sometimes less but I still wasnt completely dry at night. I went to work in advertising. One of my coworkers there was this girl named Jean Unger. Jean was gorgeous! If I wasn't straight I would if hit on her! Our company had been sold nothing new we were a relatively small agency and we just got bought out by a bigger company. Happens all the time. We met those that would be put over us our new bosses. Everything was going great until they introduced our new boss Johnny Jenson, he told everyone to call him JJ. I about wet my panties right there it was the JJ from my fucked up childhood. Jean didn't look very pleased as well, we both looked like we were ready to kill him. At lunch I pulled Jean aside and asked her why she looked like I had. She blushed. "When I started Jr. High School, JJ moved to my town. In those days my hair was straight I had those old plastic black frame glasses, braces on my teeth I was a pirates dream I had a sunken chest. Flat as a board! JJ used to call me Ugly Jean, I was in those days I was a mess. I noticed you didn't look very happy to see him what's your story? "JJ grew up next door. I wet my bed as a kid he called me Betsywetsy!" "No way I've heard him talk about Betsywetsy! Your the Betsywetsy?" Before I could answer I heard "Betsywetsy is that you?" I looked at my bully JJ. "Thought so, did ya ever stop peeing your bed?" This was said loud enough for everybody to hear. I heard a few snickers from behind me. A few people looked angry at JJ. He turned to Jean "Hey pretty lady, who might you be?" "My name is Jean, Jean Unger." JJ said "I used to know a girl named Jean, uglier than a mud fence, nothing like you Pretty Lady!" Jean smiled at him. The joke was this was the same Jean he was referring to. As soon as he left the smile was gone from her face. "I've always hated that guy! When I was in Jr. High School he made my life hell, and appearantly yours before mine! He is an asshole!" Jean brought out her pictures. Unfortunately Ugly Jean fit. Those pictures look nothing like the gorgeous girl that was standing before me. If you asked me they were of two different people! He hadn't recognized her, even with the photos I couldn't see the woman now in those photos. JJ hadn't recognized her either even when she said her name, he hadnt recognized her. I said to Jean "How would you like to get revenge on JJ?" She joked back "Are we going to kill him?" She asked. "No how about we bully him a bit like he used to us?" I said. "I'm in!" she said! "We might have to get dirty." I said

It was 3 days before Christmas. I was making Chocolate Chip Cookies. I was using my KitchenAide mix master, I have had for years I had all the dry ingredients mixed I just was adding the eggs, vanilla, butter and shortening. After this I just had to add the chips and bake. I was the manager of the Hospital Supply Store we sold everything from Air, well oxygen to X-ray machines and everything in between. I have been making these cookies every year for Christmas since I got here almost 10 years ago. It was my tradition, I didn't have a family, well none here in California anyway. I was a transplant to LA from Phoenix Arizona. I had brothers and sisters back in Phoenix. I had never married, I guess in a way I was married to my work. Anyway as I was mixing the last few ingredients. My mixer started to protest it began making a noise like it was bogging down then it stopped turning I could hear the motor that was just buzzing it was no longer working. Before I could turn it off I could also smell the smell of electrical smoke. I turned it off cleaned the blades. I tried it with out anything in the bowl. It hummed and I could see a little smoke come out of the motor! It was toast! Shit! I thought. I'm almost done, 5 more minutes and I could of been baking these cookies with the chips in them. I could mix them in and... no the mixture wasn't complete I would still see white from the flour, and sugar. I needed a new kitchen Aid mixmaster. I grabbed my keys and drove to the nearest appliance store. About 2 miles from my home. I was cursing that damned mixer under my breath the whole way there. I walked through the door, I was beginning to cool down some, even though I really didn't want to! "Mixers?" I asked the greeter. " Aisle 12 Marnie" The greeter said! It took a second to realize he had called me by my first name. I looked down I didn't have my name tag from my work on me. "How do you know me," I asked? "That's easy the guy said, I knew you in high school. Your Marinie Carlson, at least you were when I knew you at Arroyo High School in Phoenix." "That's right I did go there, and your?" "Sorry, I'm Daniel Green." "Danny Green I thought! THE Danny Green. The guy who everybody used to say looked like Donny Osmond I though, I used to have such a crush on Danny Green. I was probably still blushing! He was a year ahead of me he was a Senior and I was a Junior. I knew he had been offered a schlorship to play baseball at USC. He was our second basemen. He was good he had made it into Sports Illustrated you know the segment that has amature players that are really good. He was leading the country in double plays plus batting like .450. I knew him!" "Danny how are you doing?" I'm good and you Marnie, what brings you here today?" "My Mix Master took a dump while making cookies." "Tell me it wasn't your grandmothers chocolate chip cookies! I used to really love those!" "Yes, yes it was!" "If you didn't know I used to buy those at the bake sales we used to have in high school, I loved them! I kinda had a crush on you because of them!" "Really, I asked I kinda had a crush on you, you were so dashing in those days out there on second base!" Dashing? Really? Do they even use that word anymore? Could I get anymore lame? "I bet your husband just loves them," Dan said! "I never married." I said. That just slipped out. "How about you how is Mrs. Green?" He had married I heard while he was at USC. "My wife was killed a few years back, nasty auto accident." "Sorry to hear that!" I said. Is there a boyfriend or somebody else?" Danny asked. "No just me and my beagle Peanut." "If you aren't busy I would love for you to come for Christmas! Sorry that came out weird. I mean since were old friends. Old high school friends and there isn't any others that I know of in the area. Your welcome to spend Christmas with us. The Greens there are me and my three kids!" "I would love to I said!" That also slipped out! "Great when you get that mixer bring it to me, I can get it for you a lot cheaper. I am manager here!" Instead of being $209 dollars he got it for me for $179. I asked him if there was anything he wanted me to bring? "Just you and some of your chocolate chip cookies?" "That can be arranged," I smiled. He wrote his address on a business card and it wasn't to far from my place. I got home finished the cookies up for work the next day. I realized he hadnt told me what time to come on Christmas. I gave him a call. "Marnie good to hear from you. I know I realized after you left I didn't tell you what time to be there. My bad! Listen I was thinking, can you wrap presents?" "Yeah I'm pretty good why?" "Because I can't wrap worth anything and my oldest is 8, she will know that Santa didn't wrap the presents. If it wouldn't be too much trouble could you come on Christmas Eve?" "What I asked you want me to spend the night?" "That came out wrong, sorry but yes, you will be sleeping in the guest room. By yourself!" "Aw, shucks I teased I thought for a moment you was propositioning me!" "A. A , nothing like that I promise to be a good boy!" This was said very quickly. Even through the phone I could tell he was blushing. I guess I could spend the night and help you wrap presents." I thought to myself I just have to prepare a bit. "I nedd to pack a few extra things and my sexy underwear isn't one of them! Too bad!" "Yes, Thank you ever so much, and I promise you no hanky panky!" I spent the next few days thinking about what to pack and wash before I actually spent my Christmas Eve at my high school crushes place. I guess I seemed distant. June one of my sales people asked me "What's up? I have to spend the Christmas Holliday at a man's house." "Oohh, said June do we know him?" "No! "No, he was my high school crush." "Even better! Does he know about you and....?" "My bedwetting? No!" Everybody here knew about my problem, I was the go to person when somebody needed diapers, ether for themselves or loved ones, lots of kids wore them just like I used to when I was their age, I still needed them at night and I was 28 years old. I had planned on taking my most absorbent diapers with double inserts and plastic panties. With my flannel pajamas, you could hardly tell I was diapered. "He isn't going to find out about it either! I will be taking extra precautions. This a one time deal, you know I don't date because I don't want to have to tell a guy that at 28 years old I still wet my bed like I'm 3 years old!" "Well have fun anyway whether your diapered or not! Said June. You deserve to be happy just like the rest of us!" I went home and packed my suitcase. Diapers, plastic panties, wipes to wipe the pee smell away on Christmas morning. Baby Powder at night to keep my skin from getting a rash. Dr. Budrouxs Butt Paste for where I was getting a rash. Panties to go over the diapers and plastic panties. Extra in case I leaked. Clothes for Christmas morning. I was ready, I had also made my chocolate chip cookies for Dan!

My name is Colin Twitchell, let me tell you about my best trip ever. Me ma' was American in the Army stationed in England near Leeds. Me da' was a son of a Pub owner in Gateshead England. Me ma' was on leave her and few of her girlfriends traveled the two hours north to Newcastle/ Gateshead area. They ended up at me gramps Pub. Me ma' and Me da' as soon as their eyes met there was a spark for them both. My dad spent the whole night talking to my mom when he wasn't serving other customers. Every weekend my mom would leave the base and travel to my dad and they dated. Me Gramps' saw what was happening and arranged for my dad to be off on weekends, even though it was their most busy time. One Sunday he never made it back home. He had gone with my mom back to Leeds and they got married this was the late 1970's. My mom and dad were married a few years and had a daughter Gayla. When she was 7 and in 1994 I was born. Mom and dad were living in the States by then. Dad did what he knew best we ran a Pub. Mom did the cooking in the restaurant and dad did the pub. My sister Gayla was going to be the heir to the Twitchell throne but when I was 9 her and some of her friends were out to a school function on the way home they were hit by a drunk driver. My sister was killed, her and two of her friends, one was put in a wheel chair for the rest of her life. The guy that hit them was a college student at ASU near where we had our pub. After that dad kicked out anybody that was getting to drunk to drive, he made sure they didn't drive drunk. Growing up I never stopped bedwetting, if you knew my dad this was a sore spot with him. I now became the heir to the Twitchell throne and stood to inherit the pub. Since my dad was a true Geordie, being from the Newcastle area when I worked the pub I was expected to sound like a Geordie me'self. Geordie is one of the thickest dialects in England. I was born in America so when I'm not working at the pub I speak Anerican. Part of The pub was dedicated to be little store we sold English candy, crisps, foods, even tea pots. We got them from England. My dad would send me to England once or twice a year to get these things. I tried to tell my dad that we could get these things on line over the internet. Since dad didnt understand the internet it was "Evil". The funny part was he took credit cards Mastercards, Visa, American Express cards as payment. He didnt understand that was part of the internet as well. I caught the flight from Phoenix Sky Harbor Airport to London Heathrow. It was an overnight flight arriving at 1350 hours GMT. which was about 0500 hours MST. Arizona was Mountain Standard Time all year long we don't have Daylight Savings Time during the summer months we were the same as Pacific Daylight Time. In November we returned to MST like the rest of the time zone. Like I said when I flew I wore diapers just in case I fell asleep as at 24, I'm still a bedwetter. Tonight on the flight there were some girls one was a cute blonde, named Trixie actually she told me it was Beatrice, but she hated that name! We talked as we were across the aisle from each other. We both became tired and fell asleep. We were getting about 2 hours from London Heathrow. I casually gave my diaper a squeeze through my pants. I had wet. Trixie got up and went to use the toilet. Her shorts she was wearing looked wet. No way it couldn't be, the wet spots were in the spot where a diaper would leak. I also thought she could have been on her period or something it could be blood as her shorts were a chocolate brown. As she left I checked my seat I was dry. That had happened to me before. Trixie was coming back she didnt look happy. "You okay I asked?" She blushed "Uhmm, my pad leaked." Okay I thought the latter it was blood. We talked more and I learned that Trixie and her friends were going into Newcastle themselves seems like one of her friends had an Uncle in Gateshead. The Uncle had passed on but her Aunt was still alive. "She runs a Pub called the Greyling, ever heard of it?" Indeed I have, that was my grandfather's pub. The one my dad worked in as a lad. That means that they were going to Aunt Mary's same as I was. "No way so who was related to Uncle John." "How did you know his name was John asked Elinore?" "Mary is my dad's sister!" "No way, said Elinore I've eaten at your parents bub before in Phoenix. So you will be staying at Aunt Mary's too?" "Yep sure will I said!" "Trixie you hear that? Are you sure you brought enough protection. Trixie still has a slight problem with wetting her bed," said Elinore. Trixie changed several shades of red. Soon we were in London. We went from where we were to where the smaller plane was to depart for Newcastle. I changed my diaper in the rest room. Trixie wouldn't even talk to me. "Are you okay," I asked? "You must think I'm retarded or something to be still wetting the bed at my age, don't you?" "I'm not thinking no such thing!" "Do you still like me knowing that I'm a bedwetter?" "Honestly? I think I find you even more beautiful now!" Trixie's jaw dropped, "Why?" "If you really want to know!" "I really want to know!" "I do too!" "Uhhuh, she said I think I'm the only bedwetter over 20 years old in the whole world!" "Not quite, I said. There are probably millions of us, I've heard 2 to 12% of adults have problems with wetting." "So I'm not alone?" "Hardly," I said. "Did you ever stop peeing your bed ever as a child," she asked? "No, you," I asked? "No, I never stopped." I took her hand and held it. "Trixie I was into you before I found out about your bedwetting. Would you be willing to date me while were here?" "I was pretty much into you also. Let's not be together because we share the same ailment be the reason were together, but I have to admit I was reluctant to start a relationship because of my bedwetting." "Same here Trixie but I'm so glad we found each other. There were no assigned seating on the plane to Newcastle. Trixie and I shared a seat. Elinore gave us stares the whole flight. I asked Trixie why Elinore keeps looking at us like that. "Truth, she likes you as well, that's the reason she blabbed my secret. She can't understand why your still so into me as well. There have been times when we've liked the same guy she blabs my secret, and steals the guy. This is the first time it has backfired on her. She doesn't know how to handle that!" "You need to find better friends than her!" Next time Elinore gave us a look I reached and kissed Trixie! It was Elinore who's jaw dropped this time.

So I need advice!!! I’m 2 shy 2 buy my own diapers…my ex gf used to buy them for me bc she is the reason I started wearing them…i used to wet my bed but stopped in my teens and then after taking my new adhd meds started to again and ended up wetting the bed with my gf…well after I started wetting the bed often she got tired of getting soaked too so she suggested I try goodnites for a while until it stopped or slowed down but I was 2 embarrassed to agree so one day she just came in with a pack and swore it was our secret and I finally agreed to try them for a while…well I ended up getting used to them and instated to wet in bed much more than usual until it was every night…i used to wake up sometimes needing to pee but I figured I’m wearing a diaper so I just wet myself in bed and went to sleep..well I ended up regressing myself completely to fulltime bedwetter as when I was ypunger…well we broke up after 2 years of her buying them for me and now I’m back to wetting my bed without them and its getting crazy and harder to hide my lil issue…i have to do laundry nonstop and my mattress is getting very stained on both sides bc I flip it in the morning when I don’t have time to clean it thoroughly and so my mom don’t see it..im sure she’s got an idea that I’m wetting my bed bc I strip my bed everyday and hide them and my wet pjs and boxer briefs in a bag in my closet until I get home..so I’m starting to slightly think my room smells like a bedwetters again…i also never use my good comforter anymore so I don’t ruin it…anyway im confused on what to do now about my little embarrassing situation?? If I do continue to wear a diaper to bed I’ll never quit wetting my bed but if I don’t I’ll ruin my bed and get my room smelling like a pissy mattress always…i really did pretty much stop wetting my bed completely at like 14 except a rare accident but hardly ever until I started taking adhd meds a couple years ago and even then it was not a lot at most 2-3 times per week but my gf basically forced me to wear goodnites to bed and that’s why I am back to always wetting my bed again..im too old for this and am scared for people to find out my lil issue…to be honest I enjoy waking up in a warm wet bed or diaper..i think I like it bc when I was young I would wet my bed all the time and got used to the feeling and even sometimes would wake up needing to pee and just soak my pjs and bed and lay in it and go back to sleep until morning…but it’s not as nice waking up in a cold wet bed….i usually wake up not long after I actually wet my bed bc it’s still very soaked and warm most the time…well what should I do??? Any advice would be nice to hear…also I want to have a girl spend the night with me again and don’t know what to do about that??? Do I tell her before she spends the night or just try to hide that I’m wearing a diaper bc that might be impossible…i wish I had a gf who also wet the bed so it wouldn’t be a problem.

I've trained myself to wet the bed again and am now reliably wet every night without memory of waking to void. I have no desires to try and re-potty train myself to stop wetting the bed, but it has occured to me that although there are many on forums such as DD that have reported regressing to wetting the bed, I haven't heard of anyone training themselfs to wet the bed again and then training themselfs to stop wetting the bed after that. So, my question is have you or anyone you know done that? If so, how?

I came across a website called StartBedwetting.com and they provide a service for a fee where the person trains you to become a bedwetter. There are plenty of listed testimonials and it sounds interesting, but I can't find anyone online talking about it. Has anyone used this service? What did you think about it? Is it just info I can find online somewhere else?

My name is Caleb Thomas, I grew up in a small town, we had two elementary schools, one middle school and one high school. Since I lived in the south part of town, I went to Ferris Elementry. The other Elementry was on the north side of town was Northern Elementry School. Ferris and Northern both went to Janie Bell Middle school. Janie Bell and kids from other parts of the county went to Booneville High school. Ferris was the smallest school we had a classroom for every grade. Each had about 20 to 25 kids in each grade. Northern had about twice that every year about 75 to 80 kids went to J. Bell as we called it. Those 75 to 80 kids went on to Booneville High plus kids from about 7 other smaller towns making the high school with a student population of about 500 kids over 10th 11th, 12th grades. At Ferris Elementry we had a small stream that ran behind the property. There was a brick wall with fencing about 6 to 7 feet tall to keep kids from playing in the stream. When I was about 8 or 9 years old we had terrible rain storms I mean terrible my mom got us in the car went to drive out of the garage, even with the windshield wipers at full blast, you got about half a second before the windshield was covered in rain so you couldn't see. Mom backed out and drove right back in again. She said if a kid had to walk in this they would drown before ever getting to school. We had one radio station in town and as mom got back int the house they announced that school was canceled for the day. As a kid I felt my heart leap with joy! Mom didn't look too pleased. The next day school was cancelled again we got over 5 inches of rain in the past 24 hours the town was flooded. Today staying home we got to go out and play it was miserable the humidity felt like you was rolling in molasses. We stayed in. By the third day we were back at school. I got to see my best friends. There was Kurt Smith, Morris Bingham and Dick, not Richard Fennington. His parents had actually named him Dick. Mrs. Pennington our teacher always called him Richard, you would hear him say every time it's just Dick! Well there was Kurts older sister Barbara and another girl named Penny. Penny was cool for a girl, she wanted to be a boy, her parents let her. Her dad was a farmer and had no sons only daughters like Her sisters she had to learn to work like a boy. So she became one we guessed, we knew in the back of our mind she was a girl but she didn't act like one. Barbara on the other hand was all girl she was Kurt's older sister by about 2 years she was in 6th grade. Barbara was Beautiful! She had blonde hair, just beautiful. Every time she got around me I could feel my heart just beating in my chest. I liked her, well me and about half the school. The problem was that she knew she was cute and had that I'm so much better than you bitch attitude, it was her way or the highway. If she she said the sky was red and you told her it was blue you just ruined any chance you had with her which was pretty much non existent in the first place. The rains had engorged that stream behind the school that the brick wall with the fence had washed away. The teachers all told us that we weren't allowed to play over there, telling us that, I looked at Penny, Kurt Morris and Dick. We knew where we were headed at recess. We ran to the point where they still had the grounds roped off with that yellow tape they put up at cop shows on TV. You know "Police line do not cross!" This said Caution Do Not Cross. So the police hadn't put it up. If they had they would of arrested you if you crossed it! We saw a grey box just sitting there in the water. It was wood. Now I ducked under the tape and retrieved that grey box. Looking back I should of left the damned thing there. Mrs. Pennington yelled at me for crossing the line. She didn't even notice the box I had retrieved from the water. The bell rang and I stashed the box in the bushes and went in to class. It was weird, it was like the box was calling me, I could see other kids getting close to the bushes but none noticed the box, like Mrs. Pennington hadn't noticed I had retrieved it. I guess that should of been a clue. After school I retrieved the box. Kurt, Morris, Dick, Penny and I went to our club house. Soon Barbara joined us. The box had weird symbals on it carved into the wood. Barbara told us it was Chinese symbals. It didn't look like Chineese to me. Since I had been the one that retrieved it it told me it was an ancient Rune language. You know from Runania I told them, like I knew. Of course I had just ruined any chance I had with Barbara by contradicting her! We opened the box, it was like a hiss as the air from outside went in. The lid on the inside said "Beware these are the Pleasure Curses. Use them wisely and you will live another day. All but one encased in here, is temporary from sunrise to sunrise, only one is permanent and reserved for bad people as a curse. To rid yourself you need to pass the curse on by touching another and that relieves you of your curse. The cursed one can only pass the curse on to another more vile than themself! Now this was written in the same Rune wording that was on the outside but we could read it just the same. The viles had different stoppers. One looked like a nose another like a feather. One was clear and had a yellow liquid that looked like pee in it. I took the one that looked like a feather and sniffed it it was like the most pleasing aroma, like strawberry. Penny smelled the one that looked like a nose. Peppermint she said! Kurt took one that looked like a stick of butter. Morris took one that looked like a scroll of paper. Barbara took the one that was clear and looked like pee inside. Honeysuckle she said as she smelled it. We all smelled it and sure didn't smell like honeysuckle to me it smelled like our corral where we kept our milk cow. It smelled of piss and poop to me. Looking at the bottoms of the viles there was writing, mine said Laughter, it was in the same writing I knew we shouldn't be able to read but we could. Penny's said sneezing. Kurt's was relaxed, we didn't know what that meant. Morris was knowledge. Morris wasn't the best student he could use some knowledge. Barbara's said humbling bedwetting. If your good and your heart is pure, you need not fear this. But if you're evil your cursed!. She said well babies it's time for me to leave I have s date with Tommy tonight. Something you babies know nothing about! And she left. We all smelled the other viles we all agreed that humble bedwetting smelled nothing of honeysuckle. That night my dreams were filled with visions of ancient Rune writing. My dreams got funnier and funnier. I was laughing so hard I wet myself. I awoke to find it was true, I had wet my bed. Instead of being embarrassed I began to laugh, I laughed until my sides hurt. I couldn't stop laughing at the fact I had pissed my bed! My mom heard me laughing and came to investigate. She saw me there laughing sitting in my wet sheets. The look on her face I found comical and began to laugh even more I had tears in my eyes from laughing. She helped me get into the bath and clean me up because I had wet my bed. I finally calmed down and was eating my rice crispies and started laughing at the Snap, Crackle, Pop. My dad spoke, did you hear that Fred lost all his crops they washed away in the that storm last week. This started me laughing anew Fred was our neighbor, him and his family had just been hanging on from season to season from losing their farm, without this years crop they were sure to lose the farm for sure. "What's so damn funny Caleb? Don't you know that they are going to lose their farm now?" I began to laugh even more now. I liked our neighbors, I really did feel sorry for them but all I could do was laugh at their predicament. I had to pee so I ran to the toilet before I wet myself again. That got me laughing about my wet bed this morning. I looked at myself in the mirror. It hit me for the next 24 hours I was to laugh. But i was laughing at all the inappropriate things. Every time I heard something that was bad I laughed! It felt good to laugh but as a kid I knew laughing at inappropriate things could get you punished. Severely punished. I began to laugh at the fact I could get in trouble! My dad was right what the hell was wrong with me. My mom kept me home from school and was taking me to to the doctors to see if I had Tourettes! Penny awoke about day break she began to sneeze at first they were just little sneezes as it got brighter they got so she was really letting them fly. She was sneezing so hard she felt herself leaking small amounts of urine. Her mom came and felt her forehead. No fever she said she gave her a little childrens antihistamine this was in a liquid form and Penny sneezed it all back over her mother right in her face. Sorry mom, I didn't mean to she said between sneezes. The last sneeze jarred her bladder and she peed soaking her bed. Sorry mom was all she said. Her mom kept her home from school. She was taking her to the doctor to find out what she was allergic to. Morris remembered at daybreak he hadn't done his homework he grabbed his book and started doing the math. Within minutes he had finished it and about two or three chapters beyond where they were. Too easy he thought, is it right was his next thought, he checked and double checked it sure enough it was good. There were story books and all kinds of reading material on his bookshelf. He had always wanted to read the Harry Potter stories he began to read The Sorcers Stone. The boy who lived. He had been scared to read a book like this before, he associated thick books with more difficult to read books. Today as he read in his minds eye he could picture everything. It was like the book was talking to him. He was so wrapped up in what he was reading that he didn't even realize he had wet himself, he was so engrossed in the book even when his mom came to get him up he was so into the book that he was on autopilot she took him and bathed him and fed him and dressed him. It was like he was in his own world. What was happening in ours wasn't registering. His mom was proud of him he had never been this interested in a book before. She also knew with him reading like this he could verily easily walk off the stairs or off a cliff even and wouldn't know until he hit the bottom. She decided to keep him home from school for his own safety Kurt awoke and the first feeling he registered was that he had wet he was wet. It had been a couple of years since he had. If the guys found out he was a bedwetter until almost 7 years old he would never live it down. He went to get up and run to the bathroom as if Barbara found out she would tease him for wetting his bed again just like she had when this was a daily occurrence. As he got out of bed he collapsed into a heap. It was like he was paralyzed nothing worked. He told his hand to move and it didn't respond. What the hell he thought then he remembered relaxed his body was totally relaxed. He mumbled mom! His mom came and found him lying on the floor she asked him what was wrong. He mumbled something about relaxed. Mom called an ambulance it was like her son was paralyzed. Her first thought was Polio, he had been given those shots when he was a baby. He even had the smallpox scar on his right shoulder. As the ambulance was on its way she ran to wake up Barbara. She found that Barbara had wet her bed as well. She was concerned as What she got from Kurt was he had wet his bed. And found that he couldn't move. Barbara jumped up like a cat and realized that she had wet her bed. This wasn't her her this was Kurt he was the bedwetter. She went to say that Kurt must of pissed on her somehow last nigh. I don't think so Kurt is paralyzed. The ambulance and paramedics are on their way here to take him to the hospital as we speak. They heard a distant siren that was getting louder with each moment. For God's sake get yourself cleaned up, then come to the hospital your father will pick you up. They loaded Kurt up and took him to Booneville County Hospital. Looking back I kind of still laugh, we were cursed I saw a kid that I knew and shook his hand while at the doctor. Next day I was fine but he was laughing at inappropriate things. Penny's little sister tried to comfort her and was sneezing like Penny. Kurt was relaxed and a kid stole his bracelet from him and next day was paralyzed himself. Kurt was fine by the next morning. Morris bumped into somebody while he had his nose in a book. Next day he was fine but had found a love of reading. Barbara had the permanent curse she was a nightly bedwetter. Kurt was nicer to her than she ever had to him when he was a bedwetter. Barbara did learn one thing from her curse, humility! Even though she was two years older than me we dated and eventully married. I knew she was a bedwetter it didn't matter to me. I had always had a thing for her. She became a news reporter for the local radio station, and one day as she met with one of our state assembly woman they shook hands. That was the last time that Barbara wet her bed. The state Assembly woman, well she kind of fell out of the spotlight we never heard from her again, rumor was she had became a recluse after becoming incontinent. Well the curse was true. Barbara finally met somebody viler than her. This woman was so vile she was leaking in the daytime as well as night. Oh I did get the sneezing one time afterwards, Penny's curse. My son got relaxed and was paralyzed for the day. We just passed it on to somebody else.

It's just always been mom and me. My mom is the greatest. I've never wanted for anything. As far as as a dad, uhm, mom was 22 traveling through England, she was in Cardiff in Wales. She went to a concert and met a boy. She believes his name was Tommy, they had sex which produced me. All I know is my dad is Welsh and cute, according to mom. She got back to the States and found out she was pregnant with me. Her parent were really religious they forbade her to have an abortion, but at the same time disowned their daughter and granddaughter, me. I am personally very glad that mom didn't abort me. Mom being pregnant worked two jobs and went to school and got her diploma graduated. Went and got her MBA and now is making more money than her parents expected her to. After having me mom had a difficult delivery with me. Coming out I damaged something and mom wears diapers all the time now she wets all the time. My earliest memories was me waking up crying because I was wet and messy and mom coming in wearing her diaper that was just as wet as mine. Her changing me then herself. For me I never got out of diapers. Mom told me that it was okay if I never got dry as as she was a bedwetter until she was 14, and had a brother older than her that was still wetting his bed last she heard. Bedwetting ran in the family. The problem was I had a hard time still not pooping my diapers at night. At 7 it was discovered that the last foot and about of half of my bowel was dead. Oh it still had a blood supply but it was like the nerves were dead I don't know when I have to poop like most people, l don't get the urge! They gave me stuff like Metamucil that I take that keeps the mail moving. I just don't know when I have to go. Like mom I wear diapers all the time to catch when I poop. I've have had people call me a "Poor Dear" like anybody with a disability you live with it. You cant change it, you adapt and learn to deal with it. I'm now 14 and still poop myself without warning. I take chlorophyll tablets to cut the smell down. My friends know I need diapers, and oh yeah I got my mom's bedwetting gene as well. They accept me for me. They are usually the ones that say "Trudy, I think you need a change, I can smell ya!" They smell it before I do. They know I can't help it. Melinda my best friend has her own bedwetting to deal with so I think that's why we get along so well. Jill has a bit of Cerebal Palsy, she has a pretty pronounced limp, she sways her upper torso from side to side when she walks, we call her the Ewok, from Star Wars. Karen is the only normal one of us, even she has her demons. Her mom suffers from deep depression. She has been taking care of her mom and family since she was 10. There are days and sometimes weeks her mom doesn't even get out of bed. She does the cooking and cleaning since she has a younger brother and sister and a dad to take care of. She did it occasionally at first but even her dad relies on her now. We're pretty much normal teenagers other than the lives we lead outside of school. Melinda and I both wear diapers to bed. She used to just wet her sheets. Until I convinced her to wear a diaper instead of sleeping in those wet sheets. Karen likes wearing and wetting diapers as well. We decided it's like she has to be an adult in the day time at night she goes back when she had no cares in the world when she was a baby. We realize that and let her wear with us without a care. Jill wears just to not feel left out. Mom is pretty much accepting of us 4 this happens pretty much at my place because for Jill and Karen it isn't needed at their home. Karen even sucks her thumb at night when diapered, she looks like she is about 3 years old other than she has the biggest boobs of us 4. The boob fairy has been very kind to her! Jill not so kind at 14 almost 15, she is just starting to get more than bumps. Melinda and I are pretty normal not big and not small. The funny thing is the nights that Karen isnt diapered she doesnt suck her thumb at all. As far as us two still wetting our beds. I think I'm going to take after my uncle, who knows when I will stop I'm already older than my mom when she quit wetting her bed. Wearing diapers 24/7 doesnt help, there are days that if I can't get to a toilet to pee I will just go in my diaper. I will probably end up pooping it so why not wet it as well. I know that sounds, lazy, but I don't want to hold it too long. I got a UTI about a year ago from holding it to long. Mom said it was okay just to wet it, no more UTI's. That's me and my friends were all different people, but we all have different problems, in lots of ways were the same, we all like nights when were all diapered together, no one judges the others. Karen I think will be wearing diapers as long as Melinda and I she needs them psychologically as bad as us, they keep her sane so she doesn't end up like her mom.

When I was 14 my parents suffered a financial setback. My dad was working but his hours were being cut at the plant. We were still in our home, we had food to eat, it was just money was tight. I begged and begged my parents to let me get a part time job, just to help out. At 14 I didn't realize that at part time it wouldn't be enough to offset what my dad was losing. I was only making minimum wage. My dad was making $17.92 per hour, for those days an excellent wage, I would be making a whopping $2.10 per hour. The deal was if my grades slipped in school the job was over. I worked for Mr. Mauzer. I did anything he wanted me to do from pulling weeds to shoveling snow. Believe me when I say he got his $2.10 worth of work out a me! Now Mr. Mauzer had no sons only daughters why I was hired, there was Carrie she was a bit older than I was at 16, Patricia my age and Deborah age 12. Now Mrs. Mauzer was very pretty and all of their daughters took after her. At 14, for some reason I had my heart set on Patricia. She wanted nothing to do with me what so ever! I think it was the time that I caught a frog and as I was showing it to her, it jumped and landed square in her face. She always thought I had done it on purpose. I hadn't but she still didn't like me. As I was working every time I turned around there was Debbie. I thought she followed me just to make sure I was doing what was asked of me by her father, you know just making sure I was earning that $2.10 an hour. She would come ask me what I was doing, then ask Why? I would explain it to her. She always liked my explanation she would smile at me. When I was thirsty she would bring me a glass of cold water. She treated me better than Patricia ever had. I even told her why Patricia didn't like me. I told her about the frog. She laughed and thought it was what she deserved. Debbie told me she liked frogs! Even though she always wore a dress that was as blue as her eyes she was more of a tomboy. We talked and talked as I did my work. I liked Debbie. On one occasion I asked her why she hung out and watched me work. She blushed a little and said "Because I like you! You don't tell me to go play in traffic or jump in the lake." "Who tells you that?" I asked? "My sisters, and other boys that used to work for my daddy!" I told her "Well as I see it your dad's my boss which kinda makes you my boss as well." She liked my explanation. About 2 years later I was 16 and my wage had increased to $2,98 an hour, I saved my money and I got to buy my own clothes for school every fall. My mom no longer had control of what I got for school. Debbie was now 14 still wore dresses still hung around while I worked. One day while I was working and she was watching me work her mom came and asked if she was good still? "No," was all she said and her mom took her to the house 5 minutes later she was back. We were talking again, it looks like rain as their were clouds coming to the west. Soon the wind picked up and it began to blow. Debbie was sitting there when a gust blew her dress up. I was expecting to see panties but got a view of her diapers, I'm not sure who was more shocked me or her. She tried to put her dress down but the damage was done. She looked like she wanted to cry. "Why do you wear diapers for," I asked? "If you must know I still wet my bed, my mom and dad think that if I wear diapers at all times except for school it will embarrass me enough that I will stop wetting my bed!" "That doesn't work I said!" "How would you know," she asked? "My parents did that to me when I was 11, I said. I still wet mine." "You do?" "Yep, the only thing it did wearing most of the time was I got kind a dependent on the diapers started needing them and not knowing when I went." "Me to! My mom just changed me and I think I'm wet again but I didn't pee on purpose. Do you still wear diapers, cloth and plastic pants like me?" I looked around to see who was watching if anybody, and unzipped my pants. She could see my diapers through the hole. "I couldn't stop wetting myself now if my life depended on it," I said. Tell your mom that's all this leads to. Debbie grabbed me and gave me a kiss. No little peck this was a real live lip lock. "I love you she said!" "Debbie I love you as well!" From that day on we became an item. Her dad was kind of upset that I was dating his daughter. He took me to his office and talked with me. He wanted to know why I loved his daughter, he came out and told me she was a bedwetter thinking that it would scare me away. I told him "I knew about her bedwetting and showed him my diapers and told him he might want to rethink the diaper punishment thing, it only causes you to lose more control, take it from somebody that is now diapered 24/7/365 thanks to my diaper punishment at age 11." They tried to get Debbie out of her diapers but it was too late. Like me she was dependant on them now like I was. At 18, I started college so did Debbie at 17. As soon as she hit 18 and I got a great job making $26.56 an hour we were married. Come to find out that due to the heat of wearing diapers and plastic pants I'm shooting blanks now. My mom felt low when we told her that there were no children in our future due to their bedwetting punishment. So did Mrs. Mauzer We're still married and were both diaper dependent thanks to our parents.

Hi, I have a genetic kidney disease called Cystinuria. It means my kidneys don't put the amino acids back into my bloodstream and cystine isn't water soluble. To make sure it all gets flushed out and doesn't turn into big stones I have to drink 3.5 litres of water per day. My control when I'm awake is fine...though I practically live on the toilet. But ever since the second of two pcnl surgeries I've been wetting the bed. I wear incontinence pads to bed, but for some reason my sheets still get wet. Maybe the pad is to wide and bunches or I move too much... My urologist refuses to even see me. He describes that and ongoing chronic pain as 'unfortunate'. It's really starting to get me down and I'm always exhausted. Although I enjoy reading abdl stories I never imagined this would happen to me. It's all just another reason to be too shy about finding a guy.

My name is Marie, just plain old Marie. I'm the #2 child. I have an older sister, you know the type, a regular Mary Poppins, perfect in every way. In school "Why aren't you as smart as Fiona?" Fiona learned to play the piano, music was like bred into her. After 3 years of lessons I still can't figure out how to read music very well. Like I said in school Fiona got A's and hardly cracked a book open. I work my butt off just to get B's and C's. It just ain't fair! I love her and hate her at the same time! There is one thing I do better than her, our real daddy didn't really want to be our daddy. He booked it when I was 2 and Fiona 4 years old. Our mom worked her fingers to the bone just to keep a roof over our heads and food on the table. I'm grateful to have a mom that cares for us like that. When I was 4 and Fiona 6 our mom met a guy. Ray swept our mom off her feet. He didn't mind that mom had two daughters. He wanted a family. He got us. Ray became daddy to me, I guess he swept me off my feet as well! He's stepped up to the plate, I really love him. Fiona has accepted him as dad, and that's been about it. She never bonded with Ray, or daddy the way I did. Even though I'm 18 he still calls me his little girl. Fiona is jealous of me in the relationship Daddy and I have. Even though I'm 18 there is one other thing that Fiona is better at than I am. Fiona was potty trained at 4 years old, I on the other hand was potty trained at 3. All except for nightimes. I still pretty much wet my bed every night. Miss perfect Fiona will not let me forget that I still wet my bed. When I wake up in the morning she is usually right there already checking to see if my sheets are wet or dry. My mother doesn't know where my bedwetting comes from nobody on her side, and she has talked with the sperm donors side what we call my real dad, and their is no history of it anywhere. That doesn't stop me from waking up wet every morning. Now I have two boyfriends, one is Berry, he comes from a family a lot better financially off than mine. Then there is Cameron, Cameron's family is about as not rich as my own. Both know I'm a bedwetter thanks to Fiona. Berry treats me like the bastard step child at the family reunion. He tells how poor I am, and tells me since I'm a bedwetter I'm just simply not good enough for him, besides he really loves Fiona, he just uses me so he can get to her. Cameron tells me I'm a goddess, he doesn't mind that I still wet my bed. At one time he had a crush on Fiona. She treated him like Barry treats me. His heart was broken, I showed him compassion and helped him find life AF. After Fiona! He has been a fan of mine since. He agrees that I'm not like Fiona, he tells me that its a good thing. My mom likes Barry, he can support me. She has never seen him treat me like dirt. Daddy likes Cameron. For being from two different generations when daddy and him get together they talk about everything from Archery to Zoology! They have even talked about me and my bedwetting. Cameron feels I'm a whole package, if that means I wet my bed that's a part of me. I've talked to him about it as well. I think it excites him in a way. He gets a hard penis whenever we talk about it, now I can have a man who my bedwetting repulses him, or one that it excites. For me its a no brainer, I don't have to be as smart as Fiona to figure this one out!